Justification
by Rogozhin
Summary: For Edward Kirk, distinguished researcher, respected intellectual, and pioneering inventor, it was easy to justify everything in the name of scientific progress. But after being captured by enemy agents in the aftermath of his most promising experiment, circumstances and his captor force him to examine the validity of his beliefs and their questionable results.
1. Chapter 1

It was completely and utterly humiliating. To have not only survived the initial wave of butchery that marked the emergence of those beasts that, as far as I can tell, have killed my entire research team and the soldiers assigned to protect them, and to have even continued my work in spite of the danger, only to be captured by enemy agents because of my own carelessness.

I first saw them when I exited the elevator to floor B1 realising the urgent need to collect the data from the Third Energy experiment that took place several hours prior and escape the island, a task that unfortunately meant entering my concealed laboratory in the simulation rooms. They were there by coincidence, I think; the muscular soldier with his rifle and the woman with the vividly red hair in the shadows behind. The look of shock on their faces seemed to indicate that, anyway.

There was a bit of confusion on both sides, I think, as to what sort of relationship we were going to have, but I saw their leader for what he was instantly. That kind of unthinking, unquestioningly determined soldier is hardly complicated, but I'd had the unfortunate task of convincing such people to fund my research for too long. My current benefactors, the Borginians, were more reliable and less foolish than the government that they helped me escape from, but even so I had little choice but to play the same game. Colonel Clay wasn't like that, but he must surely be dead by now.

I quickly realised that whatever they wanted couldn't be in my interests and escaped into the labs, though the soldier gave chase in the way that men like him always do. It made no difference. I'd been living in this facility for three years, and easily made it to my lab by the time that buffoon realised what had happened. By the time he'd found his way in, I'd already collected my data, checked the simulations, and escaped through the very well locked hatch I'd been thoughtful enough to have installed when the facility was built.

I'd even arranged things so that the next person to enter the lab would trigger a lockdown and be sealed inside, preferably until the end of time. Still, I'd been outwitted. I'd focused on the determined agent and his machine gun and forget that he wasn't alone. And so, right when I'd been ready to take the large size cargo elevator that they'd activated down to the bottom floor and finish my work, I was caught by the same woman whose existence I'd almost forgotten as she used my own escape hatch to track me down.

It was an amateurish mistake, but she was less antagonistic than I'd expected. Seemed to think I'd be grateful for the help, as if I didn't have the situation until control. Things deteriorated when the brutish leader returned, though. I'd have been willing to cooperate to an extent, but the idiot completely refused to let me retrieve my research data and equipment. Letting my entire life's work go to waste because this uncaring fool wanting to save an hour's time was completely out of the question, and confirmed that they were my enemies.

Not that it mattered, as he handed me over to the third agent and his ridiculous ponytail like a box of cargo and sent the woman off to call for a helicopter out, then left to complete some shady sort of "unfinished business" that nobody bothered to question him about.

And that's how I got to the sorriest state in my memory. There we were, waiting at the heliport for extraction back to my beastly former nation. I imagined I was too valuable to torture and that deals could be done, but without the data and the Stabilizer, I'd be set back years at best. Or maybe they'd just shoot me, if it sounded like too much effort. And here came the woman. Her name's Regina and the jarhead's is Gail, apparently. Nobody'd heard from him, but nobody sounded particularly worried either. Neither was I, so we had something in common.

It sounded like the helicopter was coming. I doubted I could escape now, but we'd probably wait for Gail to come back. The enthusiastic one with the ponytail said something, but I wasn't interested and ignored him.

But the sudden shaking _w_a_s_ interesting. As the redhead noticed, the birds were terrified, and I didn't think this is going to go to plan for much longer.

And it didn't, because that helicopter attracted the largest dinosaur on the island, and the pilot was such a terrified fool that doing nothing and getting smashed to pieces seemed like a better idea to him than pulling back. Seeing a tyrannosaurus can be a shock, I know, but there's no excuse for that kind of idiocy. The destruction of the helicopter, his death, and the death of their team's hope for escape was the result. I watched as the helicopter was smashed, grabbed, and thrown to the floor effortlessly, where it exploded in a burst of flame that only enraged the beast.

I was terrified, but also exhilarated by the chance I'd been given. So I ran. There's nothing left there but death or capture, and all I had to do is get to the elevator hall to reach safety. "Dr Kirk!" the man shouted, but I wasn't stopping for him, and he was running for the liaison elevator anyway. I glanced behind and Regina was running back, undecided on where to go. But the beast just roared and I had a sickening feeling that it was coming for me but there was the door to the hangar, and then I was through, beyond its sight and its grasp… but not yet theirs. For the slightest moment the roars, shouting and gunshots might as well have been on a different world for all their impact on me.

It occurred to me that locking those doors very likely meant condemning that woman to a violent death and I paused for a slight second, my hand hovering over the lock. Slightly earlier I shoved a researcher into a gas chamber when the crazed fool attacked me shouting accusations. This seemed a lesser offense, almost, but it still felt vile. The emotional conflict was absolutely frustrating, but I was prone to such things.

The decision was taken out of my hands; though 'lock' seems like the answer I'd have chosen. Certainly the logical answer. As I closed my hand around the mechanism, the door slammed open and something quite heavy landed on my chest, knocking me back a metre onto the dusty, hard floor of the hangar.

My head hit the floor quite painfully, resulting in me collapsing in an agonised heap still held down by that weight. I regretted my indecisiveness already, barely able to see from the pain, but could tell that nothing about this would be pleasant. The physical excitement of the night was beginning to take its toll on me already, and I could hear groaning from the lump stopping me from getting off the floor. At least it wasn't a dinosaur, though I distinctly heard another roar from outside.

The lump got up before I did, and the flash of bright red confirmed my suspicions. It always fascinated me, the degree to which one small choice could affect the world. Imagine if she survived this night and lived a full life. That may only have been possible through the movement of my hand. The slightest change would've resulted in a disgustingly violent death. I'd never be thanked for it. But she stared right at me, and I saw myself suffering for that lack of decisiveness.

I sat up from my pathetic position on the floor, a trickle of blood dripping down the back of my head. She was looking down, not pointing a weapon, but not offering a hand up either.

"You didn't lock the door," she said, looking slightly perplexed. It wasn't a question.

Slowly getting to my feet, I smoothed my now filthy lab coat out and glanced at her. "I'm afraid I didn't have the time for that," I replied, sighing.

She gave me a rather curious look, but left it at that. I'm not quite convinced she believed me, but it's not a very serious matter. I leaned against the nearest cargo box and felt behind my head. It was bleeding, but not enough to cause concern.

Outside the tyrannosaurus roared again. The entire hangar shook, and she looked at me. "Staying here is suicide; I hate to say it, but we need to get back to the facility."

I didn't disagree, but had no intention of staying in her company a minute longer than was needed. Turning to say some sneering manipulation or other, I felt her hand grasp my upper arm. The hangar shuddered again, and she stared intently at me. "It's going to have to wait, we're leaving," she said before pulling me behind her.

I pulled my arm back, but followed anyway. She was entirely right; there was no other choice. And her point was clear enough, that she was in control. There was no real shame in that, at least in this miserable situation.

We left the hangar quickly enough, and she stopped me again. "Run fast and hard, but stay behind me. They're crawling all around this place," she ordered, stepping forward with her shotgun ready. I couldn't help but feel that my survival abilities demonstrated long before her arrival were being unduly dismissed.

I ran behind as instructed, though it annoyed me, but I saw the benefits when that raptor jumped forward at us and she blew half of its head off. After that, we made it back to the entrance hall with no real issues, and I was rather curious as to her next move. The line between capture and escape was razor-thin, I knew, since if I could make it to the elevators alone I'd be able to descend to a floor beyond her reach.

The grandiose, if minimalist, hall seemed almost absurd to me at this point. Or perhaps inappropriate was a better word. The rigid order and bureaucratic discipline of the facility were completely overshadowed by the brutality and gore of the last few hours, as if the natural world had broken into this sanctuary of technology to make a mockery of humanity and its accomplishments. These unusual moments had come more and more frequently as I grew older, moments where the entire world suddenly seemed to be something quite different. That kind of insight was more helpful than not for a researcher, though.

Regina turned away from me, activating a communicator on her wrist. "Rick. Come in, Rick. This is Regina, over."

Clearly worried, she shook the thing in frustration and tried again. "Answer, Rick. This is Regina, come in. Fuck."

She stopped and rubbed her eyes, then slammed her hand into one of the pillars supporting the stairs to the second floor. "He was right. But Rick's not stupid enough to get killed like this," she muttered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I considered the situation. If her comrade had made it to that liaison elevator, he'd probably be fine. That only led to an underground area, almost unused. I could use the situation to antagonise her, sneering at someone who was likely to deliver me to my enemies, using the only method left to inflict some damage. It would be easy enough, even if it achieved nothing. I often found that kind of thing satisfying.

I slowly walked over to her, and we stood there under the stairs. "I saw him take a cargo elevator on the other side of the heliport, so you can be fairly sure that he wasn't eaten," I said stiffly. Consolation wasn't one of my stronger skills, but I realised that making this woman my enemy would be completely unproductive in this situation.

She stared at me questioningly, even seeming to scan my face as if all my motives were written there in ink. "Right. Thanks for the honesty," she said to me.

It was around this time that I became rather thankful that I got stuck with this one, and not the excessively cold and hostile leader or the security guy.

She almost seemed lost now that her team was out of contact and their plans had failed. "So what's your plan? Or am I free to leave now?" I asked, growing irritable. As soon as I heard her answer with a flat 'No' I'd have an opportunity to try and move things to a more advantageous position.

"Why?" she asked, leaving it at that.

That surprised me. "What do you mean, why? That should be self-evident, I'd think," I replied harshly.

She sat down on the floor against the column and looked up at me. "As far as I knew, this was a rescue mission. But you'd do absolutely anything to get away from us, and I don't know why. So if you're going to act like such a sanctimonious prick, at least have the courtesy to tell me what you're running from," she said, sounding more exasperated than irritated.

I stared blankly at her as she got back up and stared me down, waiting for a response. "Three years ago, your government deserted me and my work. Now you expect me to come along peacefully to captivity and possible execution, and you refuse to even allow me to compile the results of this facility's work, despite knowing what it's taken to get even this far," I spat at her, trying to make this person understand that her role was much closer to kidnapper than rescuer.

"That's not enough. If that's true, I need to know why, and I need to know how an energy programme can result in dinosaurs appearing in a research facility, which is something nobody seems all that interested in explaining," she replied before walking over and rifling through the pockets of my coat, taking the key cards I kept in there and looking through them.

My jaw clenched in frustration at the casually dismissive way she handled me, but there was nothing to be done.

"As far as I can see, both my teammates are out of contact range or dead, and nothing I've seen can provide an alternative escape route. So you know what we'll do? Use these fifty key cards to go and gather your data, as you wanted, and while we're there I'll see what else is hidden in this facility," she said, smirking at the surprised expression on my face.

"So, this is your moment. Before we caught you on B1, what was the plan?"

It was clearly the best shot I had, so I shared my plan, or part of it. "I intended to go to floors B2 and B3 to analyse the experiment results and collect the prototype Stabilizer," I said, gesturing at the door to the elevator hall.

"Then we'll start there, though I know that's not all of it," she replied, walking over to the door and opening it with a small amount of theatrical flair.

Stepping past the corpse of Paul Baker, a man I'd worked with for two years, we entered the elevator. A very unusual turn of events, I knew, but Regina had shown some ability to reason, unlike her boss, who I very much hoped had been ripped in half by some hideous beast.

The stench of blood and gore was overpowering, but I resisted the urge to hold my breath or cover my mouth. My captor seemed unperturbed, as usual, and I refused to show even the slightest sign of weakness. It had to be understood than the mangled corpse had no psychological effect on me, but intestines just weren't a daily sight in my usual life.

I had to admit, if only to myself, her company was less horrible than I'd expected. The skin-tight bodysuit helped, but I admired intelligence and strength more than anything else - strength of mind, strength of body, of will. She had more than enough of those to be interesting. For merely being interesting, I could forgive anything. So much of living was dull.

All of those things also served to make her a much greater threat. The leader, Gail, would've followed me to the furthest corner of the facility, never tiring and never giving up. And he would've failed, I was quite sure of that. The man was dangerous and determined, and probably quite intelligent, but he lacked the imagination and creative intelligence to do something as simple as agree to a request that would cost him nothing and gain him everything. It was entirely typical of humanity to stupidly discard the logical option.

Standing there in the elevator rather awkwardly, I noticed that the ceiling had been smashed apart rather ominously but didn't bother mentioning it. I glanced at her impatiently with my hand out. "If we're following my plan, I'll need my key cards."

"No you won't. You point the way, I'll do the rest. Even that much is generous."

"Fine. Use my I.D card; we're going to floor B2. Really, you people wasted a lot of time on the upper floors. Anything of worth is kept out of the grubby reach of such fools," I remarked sarcastically as the she activated the elevator.

"Yeah, but then you got yourself captured. And now I'll even get a guided tour. So maybe they didn't count on you being thick enough to get caught when they designed this place," the bitch replied in exactly the same tone of voice. It was necessary to sound so frustrated to convince her that I was powerless, but after that comment I had no need to pretend. I wasn't actually powerless, at least not entirely, but she didn't need to know. My security level A. card rubbing against the inside of my inner pocket, and that would open most of the doors in the facility, acting as a sort of override to many of the more time-consuming locks.

The doors opened and we stepped out into the red gloom of the room beyond, our combined footsteps ringing on the cold grates that served as the floor. I watched with some pride as she slowly looked from side to side, obviously trying to understand where we were and why without asking me.

She walked over to one of the many terminals connected to the enormous machinery in and around the cavernous room and read the screen's text to herself, looking back at me questioningly.

"This is the Third Energy generator and the result of over a decade's work. The complexity and enormity of what this place is and what it exists to do would take far longer than the time we have available to explain, but this project will almost surely change the course of human history. But this is only the beginning," I explained, unable to remove that hint of condescension that infused all my speeches.

"Impressive. I like the red colour scheme, really gets across that feeling of grandiosity," she replied, peering through the grates at the level below.

I had the distinct impression I was being mocked and felt my fist clenching in frustration. Absolutely nothing seemed to make any impression on this woman, and I was growing already tired of it.

She turned to leave for a door I knew would lead to the area containing the generator itself and the mechanisms for controlling the Stabiliser. Suddenly having this snide, uninterested tool of the state anywhere near my work felt like violation. I was quite furious by this point, and could feel my emotional control slipping.

"Stop," I said from across the room, my voice echoing off of its metallic walls, clearly seething with anger.

And she did, looking over her shoulder, clearly surprised at my suddenly changed tone of voice. But she also moved into a position I could only describe as subtly defensive, shotgun held at her side.

"Why is completing this mission justified to you?" I asked. My former country had shown next to no interest in my proposal, only giving a small amount of funding for a time before inexplicably cancelling, prohibiting me from sharing the data I'd already collected. I'd never quite understood their refusal, but if they were interested enough to stage a kidnapping now, something had changed.

"Our briefing was to_ repatriate_ you from this island. Considering the situation, I thought that could be changed to rescue, but -" she began, but I'd guessed all that and so I interrupted.

"No, how do you believe your government has justified this operation? How do they benefit?"

"If your Third Energy is half as useful as you just claimed, why wouldn't they want it?"

"But they _didn't_. They knew perfectly well the potential of my research and shut it down anyway. You're not stupid; you can see there's another motive," I said, trying to highlight the holes in what they'd been told. By this time it was obvious that she'd been told the bare minimum; that I was an energy researcher previously believed dead and that it was essential that I be 'repatriated'.

"If you want to share some illuminating information, feel free. Otherwise, get moving and do what you're here to do. I still need to find my teammates, and I doubt they're in this maze," she replied, opening the door and heading through to the generator without another word.

There was information that could be shared, but I didn't particularly want to divulge any of it. I figured she knew that too, but perhaps I'd made some progress. The anger was fading away as quickly as had arrived, as was common for me, but a faint tinge of irritation remained, staining every thought. There wasn't much choice left but to show her through to my personal laboratory, and then we'd see what the data reveals. It might even explain why activating the generator resulted in dinosaurs butchering my research staff.


	2. Chapter 2

"Absolutely incredible that something so simple could produce results like that," I muttered, sitting in front of the monitors in my lab as the data created during the experiment was analysed.

We'd been in my personal quarters for almost half an hour. I'd been busy analysing and downloading my precious research data, but my unfortunate companion had less purpose in her life and had spent the time looking around my horribly messy quarters, making some rather nasty comments in this process, and checking maps of the bottom two floors.

The problem had become quite clear, though it had such powerful implications that even the previous capabilities of Third Energy seemed insignificant. The modified Stabilizer had still failed, but the overload resulted in a much less immediately obvious effect than the vaporising explosion of the previous failure. The beasts that had spawned throughout the facility were there because the overload phenomena had exchanged much of the space on the island with that from a completely different time. I explained as much to Regina, who seemed to take me on my word, though with less surprise than such news might be expected to inspire.

This was genuinely exciting information for me. Nothing of the sort had been even theoretically possible with any known technology, and mine had done it through the failure of a fundamental device. That made securing the responsible Stabiliser even more of a priority, though either of the two prototypes in the facility should produce the same results. I felt a wave of relief pass over me with the realisation that it hadn't all been done for nothing.

Regina was idly looking through a notebook I'd written on the underlying Third Energy theory, I noticed. The bright florescent lights that filled the room suddenly seemed excessive, even impersonal, and I was overcome with an urge to smash them to pieces. But then she put the book down and looked over at me and my work.

"If your grand invention is to blame, what can we do about it?" she asked, sitting on the stool near the work desk.

"Absolutely nothing, short of killing all the dinosaurs and pretending they'd never been here."

"Not quite what I meant. But you're saying the experiment caused this, and now that the generator's shut down there shouldn't be any more dinosaurs beyond the ones already here?"

"I assume so. Theoretically your idea seems right, but it's far too early to say," I muttered, staring blankly at a stack of graphs.

"Looking around this facility, I have to wonder, how many sacrifices were needed before you made this discovery?"

I looked up at that, startled. "Who cares? The numbers are _quite _irrelevant. Scientific progress has far more value than any individual life," I replied with a short, sharp laugh. "These people understood the risk; our last attempt came at the cost of far more lives."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "How callous. I always recalled there being some consideration for ethics in scientific research."

"Ethics? _Morality_? I think we're quite beyond the point of ethical concerns. To be quite blunt, I have no interest in any of it. Not politics, not ethics, not your morality and not your nationalism. The only thing to have ever shown any worth to me is the research itself," I sneered at her. To be lectured on ethics from an instrument of the state was fundamentally ridiculous.

"Aren't you just avoiding unpleasant questions? People in our positions can usually avoid that sort of subjectivity, but I think you've reached the point where they're necessary."

I was ready to debate the point, but didn't quite get the chance because that device wrapped around her wrist began beeping and glowing with a dim blue light. I'd seen enough of those things to guess that it meant her team members weren't actually being digested by dinosaurs, and suddenly felt quite nervous.

Regina looked at it, but didn't answer. She turned to me and said, "It's a distress signal. One of them's asking for my help."

The expression on her face was grim. "So," I asked, "Is it the big one or the one with the ponytail?"

"Hard to say. I haven't heard from either for hours. The signal's coming from the floor below us, I think, but it's not very precise."

"How did the three of you ever plan to take this facility to begin with? The security systems, the guards… you'd have been caught and killed before you reached the second floor," I asked, genuinely curious at the feasibility of their plan.

"There were five of us, if you must know. One on the inside to even things up. But we knew the majority of your staff had been sent off until the experiment's completion," she said vaguely while poking at the communicator.

She stopped and got up. "I'm going to have to go down to level B3. Rick was in trouble earlier, and I don't see Gail calling for help unless something was seriously wrong."

I followed her with my eyes but didn't bother moving. She'd either take me along for the ride or lock me up here. Neither would be too life-threatening.

Suddenly she swept all my junk off the desk and emptied her bag of stolen key cards onto it instead. "Is this everything I need to get around floor B3? Being honest is in your best interests right now," she said, gesturing at the key cards.

I look briefly at them, but as they were my cards didn't need to see much. "Yes, I doubt you'd be unable to find them with these. Remember that they'd have much less comprehensive access to the facility than that which we have," I answered. Strictly speaking, it wasn't a lie.

"If they've been hurt, and if this map is any indication, things are going to get nasty down there. If I leave you here, there's a chance you'll escape. If I don't, there's a chance you'll die, escape, or get me killed. I'll admit it, you're a little bit less of an ass than I thought, but I still think you're not telling me the answers to a lot of questions. All that to say, you'll be waiting here for half an hour or so," she said thoughtfully.

She pulled me over to my personal quarters and looked through absolutely everything for hidden cards, weapons, and other things that concern spies leaving prisoners to their own devices in their own facilities. Then she patted me down, but didn't put much effort into it. "I'll be locking all three doors, but without any security cards I can't imagine you'll get far. See you soon, doctor."

Regina turned to leave, but I called out to her. "Try not to die, agent." That earned me a rather surprised look, but I added "I'd prefer not to starve to death in my own quarters," to complete things. And it was a perfectly legitimate risk. If her shapely body was torn to pieces by whatever had caused floor B3 to be the first to lose contact with the base, me subsequently dying of dehydration or suicide was the other outcome in that plan. But of course she expected to be fine, the way such people always do.

She nodded gravely and left the room, firmly locking me inside. I thought I could hear the two outer doors lock too, firmly trapping me within. I still had my level A card in the same pocket near my inner thigh. Of course she avoided that region entirely during the pat down, as people do. I knew I was attractive, at least in a physical fashion. That had a certain effect on anyone. That wouldn't be enough to solve my issues, but it would help significantly if I could break the lock on my own bloody rooms. If the alternatives hadn't all been worse I think I'd have been more upset with the situation.

I expected Regina to be gone for close to an hour, allowing for the time to find whoever it was that sent that distress signal, kill whatever was lurking down there, and return with the injured party in tow.

If I waited like a good prisoner, she'd return with either one or both of her friends. Any chance of further escape or convincing her to let me go ended if Gail was still alive, and a man like him was more likely to survive alone than an I.T specialist. Unlike her, he'd make sure to keep me at gunpoint.

If I escaped, I'd surely lose any goodwill I'd managed to build with her, and I'd be alone in the dinosaur infested facility with anywhere from one to five heavily armed agents, though it seemed likely those other two she mentioned were already dead. The first stop would be the laboratory on this floor. But all I'd have to do from there would be to head to the special weapons storage area on the floor below and collect the devices before using the underground heliport to leave. I'd have the B1 simulation data, the experiment results and analysis, a copy of the facility's databases, and the Initializer and Stabilizer. That would be more than enough to start over again if this place was unsalvageable.

It was clearly risky, but the routes I intended to use couldn't be found on the map and required clearance they shouldn't have.

Of course, escape was the only choice worth my time. With that decided, I set to work immediately. The door to my quarters was electronic and set to only lock or unlock when my personal I.D card was swiped through the locking mechanism. It was usually just left unlocked, though.

Looking around at what few resources I had to work with, the immediate answer was the thick set of exposed pipes and wires on the room's uncovered walls. This area was designed as a maintenance and storage area originally, but I'd decided to make it my personal laboratory so as to have easy access to the generator. The original furnishings were still here, including many walls without plating. If I could short circuit the locking circuit, it would likely reset to the default 'unlocked' setting.

I started by smashing the circuit's cover with the end of a stool until it cracked, then pulled the ruined plastic off and exposed the circuit board. That done, I went over to the adjacent wall and pulled out a thick insulated wire, cutting the power to one of the room's fluorescent lights and spraying sparks everywhere in the process. Touching the bare metal would very likely be lethal.

Sticking that into the locking mechanism just seemed to break the thing. Still, I pushed the very stiff door and it slowly slid open, grinding as it moved. It wasn't quite freedom, but it was definitely a start.


	3. Chapter 3

I didn't linger for long in the laboratory, only collecting my research materials and a pistol I kept under a stack of planning sheets for the generator. Looks like Regina didn't bother to search this room for weapons. Well, I'd underestimated her, and now it was her turn to lose everything with one foolish mistake. Did she expect I'd be helpless without the key to my own rooms?

Both exits were locked, but my personal computer could unlock any door in the area. I took the side passage to the power room, thinking to disable the elevator and delay their return. Walking into the room, I paused for a moment to listen for enemies, human or otherwise, my pulse beginning to quicken in anticipation.

Extraordinarily, I did hear something. It almost sounded like coughing, or perhaps gasping, in the generator control room. In a short time the noise stopped and I heard nothing else. Dinosaurs didn't make that noise, and the lack of thudding combat boots seemed to rule out the agents Perhaps a member of my research team had survived after all.

Cautiously, I opened the door with my pistol held behind my back. I looked through the dimly lit control room but saw nothing, and heard only the faint hum of the idle machinery. Could it be a trap?

The coughing started again, echoing off the cavernous room's metal walls. I glanced to the elevator, but it was clearly coming from the section below the grated floor. I moved as quietly as I could to a nearby corner and peered through. And indeed, one of my researchers was down there. A woman named Cynthia, I recalled, with mousy brown hair and a sarcastic manner. Not twelve hours before she'd been in charge of activating the Initializer and monitoring it for the experiment.

I took another step and heard a sharp intake of breath. "Who's there?" a pitiful voice wheezed through the grates.

I said nothing, thinking it better not to waste time on a dying woman. The elevator was still active, and I needed to leave immediately to preserve any hope of an escape. I turned around sharply, steps ringing through the room, but they were silenced by the loud bang of a gunshot that passed within a metre of me and smashed through a diagnostic terminal.

Diving for cover behind the main control console, I stole a glance back to the terminal and saw that the shot had come from below, through the grating.

"Answer, tell me you're not," the voice said painfully. "Not one of them, or I'll keep shooting," she finished, every word clearly agonizing.

I was cut off from any exit, and still in range of the elevator. At least twenty minutes had passed of the sixty that I estimated Regina would take to return. Looking over the console slightly, I called out to her, "Calm down, researcher. They haven't made it down here."

At first there was nothing but more coughing. "Kirk, is that you?"

"Yes. We're some of the last people to have survived the attack,"

"It's our fault, isn't it? I looked at the results before… well, they weren't good," she slowly said from below.

"Indeed. The generator's activation is responsible for the dinosaurs being here. It's a result far more promising that I'd hoped for," I said, perhaps foolishly.

"Promising…? Not my first choice of words. One of them got me in the bedrooms. Thought I could use the emergency exit but I couldn't get it unlocked."

I'd been planning to use the same exit, oddly enough. Suddenly I saw her limping up the stairs. The right side of her torso had been slashed right down the breast, and her left leg didn't seem to be moving properly. Blood dripped slowly but consistently from her wounds. Moving into the light of the generator's central display, I could see she was likely to die.

We'd never been close, but I'd respected Cynthia's research skills. She'd helped significantly with the Stabilizer's recent modifications when half of the others could do nothing but watch. Watching her drag her ruined body across the floor to me was almost pitiful. I felt uncomfortable seeing it.

I saw that I was going to have to make another decision. The prudent thing to do would be to leave immediately, but she would quickly be found and interrogated, I was sure. She'd know everything the agents needed, and have no motivation to help the man who'd left her to die. That's if she didn't shoot me on the way out. Helping and hiding her would take time and potentially useless for both of us.

The heavy weight of the pistol in my hand suggested another solution. She'd say nothing, do nothing, and perhaps it could be called merciful. I thought back to the researcher who'd attacked me in the B1 labs and been shoved in a gas chamber for his efforts. Practically there was no difference. An obstacle stood in my way and threatened me and my work. The practical solution was the same.

But it didn't feel that way when I looked at her. The woman was clearly thankful to see me, even grateful to be in my presence. Her body language proved that. She leaned across the console, staining the red metal plating with blood, but she'd turned her pistol away from me.

"Why are you still here, Kirk?" she suddenly asked.

Lost in thought, it took some time for that to reach me. When it did, I looked at her from top to bottom. "It wasn't my choice. I'd have been gone long before now, but nothing seems to be working out quite the way I'd like it to," I muttered, staring at the blood dripping through the grating to the level below.

"Staying with me isn't going to help you there. I think I'm done," she said, staring blankly at the foggy shield window on the other side of the room. I didn't reply.

Twenty-five minutes gone, surely.

Cynthia fumbled in the pocket of her lab coat and pulled out a hemostat. Her right arm swung there uselessly while the left one feebly tried to apply the medicine.

"Everyone always thought you were the biggest cunt to ever live, Kirk. But you knew that," she gasped, turning to look right into my eyes. "Paul wanted to poison you towards the end, but I bet you knew that too. I bet you put a bullet through his brain, any excuse would do."

She had begun to ramble, I knew, but it was quite true. Paul was a researcher on level B1; he'd tried for months to steal data, break into secure areas, and finally to convince the B2 staff to poison me. Nobody could prove it because of the widespread support he had on the floor. Tonight he'd used the chaos to confront me with accusations of the Third Energy being nothing more than a weapon, demanding the truth. I slammed his head into the steel wall and threw him into the gas chamber used for Stabilizer experiments, pumping in enough poison gas to kill anyone. Earlier on I'd put a bullet through of one of their other cronies, some scum who'd jumped at me in the elevator hall. He ran back out into the entrance hall and I generously didn't follow.

Cynthia raised her left arm and spat blood into the coat, some spraying onto mine. That she was still lucid was a complete surprise to me.

"I knew better, or I thought so," she muttered. "I got it, you know? Your obsession with the research, the way you protected it and sneered at people who didn't get it. I knew." By now she was losing the ability to stand, even when leaning.

Genuinely curious, I reached out and steadied her, my other arm still holding the pistol. She didn't weigh much, but was soaked with blood. The hemostat hadn't done much to help.

"You knew what?" I asked, barely louder than a whisper.

"I knew this was your life's work. I knew nobody appreciated it or really got it other than you. And I knew that the military only cared for it as a weapon, despite all the things we'd shown it could do. Everyone judged you, but they didn't know half of it."

Half my time was gone, I knew. I was paralysed with indecision. My right arm fumbled with the pistol, an option which was beginning to look more like a mercy kill than a murder, and my other struggled to keep her standing.

She looked up, suddenly quite lucid and almost smiling. "All that to say, you might be the smartest guy I've ever met, but you're an idiot for listening to this instead of running. Hope it did something for your ego, if nothing else."

She brushed me off and lay down against the terminal. It was the most pitiful sight I'd ever seen. But it was no longer possible to view her as just an object, an obstacle. She'd shown a level of insight that I thought none of them could possibly have. The men who funded projects like this had only one interest: power. And bloodshed was their chosen route to that power. These arrogant fools judged me without the slightest idea of what it was to be in my position.

I looked down, but by then she'd lost consciousness. And then I did something which can only be judged as stupid. I went back to the power room, smashed open the green emergency box that stored medical supplies, and spent sealed up her wounds enough to stop her from bleeding to death. The agents would return and finish the job, buying me more time to reach the heliport. It was the best option for all involved, and perhaps having one of my lead researchers would be enough for their government's satisfaction.

Glancing back at her nearly still body, I ran for the main exit to the B2 laboratory. If I was to get this done by the time it would take for them to find me, caution wasn't an option. This was sure to be difficult.


	4. Chapter 4

The limitations of my abilities were beginning to become painfully relevant. I'd left the Third Energy area, sealing it behind me in an attempt to both buy time and obfuscate my enemies. It also meant taking a significant gamble, since opening the four door system from the outside was extremely difficult. If this didn't work, it was over.

The final door, locked with a DDK that used my name as its password (some called that hubris), slowly opened, and I exited into the tight, brightly lit hallway beyond. It quietly sealed behind me, firmly locking once more. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forwards past the parts storage room and took a right turn. Glancing left, it looked as if nobody had entered from that direction.

I reached the door to the laboratory and grasped it, the control panel already stained with blood. That prompted me to look carefully at the floor, and I noticed the steady pattern of blood splattered there leading to the generator. Cynthia's blood, surely. How terrifying it must be to be hunted and wounded, knowing you're soon to die but continuing on anyway. Why bother at all, I wondered. Why not turn your gun on yourself and make an end of it?

Not killing her was mercy, but still a practical choice given the situation. If I were recaptured, having executed a wounded woman would likely make things difficult. Think of it as a subtle trap, I told myself, wasting their time and efforts on a dead end.

The main corridor was empty, but just as hideously bright and cold as ever. As each year passed I hated this area more and more. The important data was kept in the room to the left behind the laser shutters. Curiously they'd been unlocked from the master terminal, as the green indicator light showed. None of my people would have bothered; this seemed to indicate that the security officer had reached level B3. Perhaps they were here now, waiting to ambush me.

Checking the ammunition in my pistol, I held it loosely at my side and deactivated the shutters. Seeing no ambushers, I reached into my pocket and withdrew the security level A card hidden within, using it to enter the room.

I slowly walked in, trying to do so with some discreetness. It was immediately evident that something was wrong. I could hear some sort of movement on the other side of the room, perhaps in the higher security adjacent area.

And then it struck. I'd seen these beasts before on the upper levels, but the colouring and size was different. The time for observations was short, however, since it had already jumped on the very large observation table in the room's centre, snarling and hissing furiously. I fired two shots at it, both hitting it in the chest. I might as well have thrown the gun at it for all the impact it had.

It jumped forward at me, clearing the entire table in one sweep. All reason left me and I ran back out, slipping between the two sliding doors as they opened and feeling a sharp tearing in the back of my thigh. I fell forward and landed on my left shoulder. The pain was like nothing I'd ever experienced. I turned the gun back and fired again, crawling forwards. I couldn't see the beast, and that had to be the most terrifying thing. It hissed, but I lunged forwards and slammed my palm into the shutter controls, hearing them activate and seal the way between us.

It was finished, but not for the creature. It blindly smashed into the shutter, over, and over, and over, attempting to reach me despite obviously having no way to do so. A trickle of blood ran down its leg from a gunshot wound, but it appeared completely unfazed.

My own blood was smeared on the floor where I'd crawled to escape, and was slowly dripping from a gash torn in the back of my leg. I ran a hand over it and looked curiously at the thick red liquid that now coated my fingers.

The bright light and cold steel of the hall looked just as out of place as the entrance hall had. For all we humans had achieved, for all we had subdued the natural world and bent it to our desires, it had a curious way of resurfacing at the most unlikely moments. There was something very humorous about a cold, sterile, lifeless laboratory containing the very peak of human achievement being torn to pieces by creatures so bestial and irrational. The blood, mine and his, was a constant reminder of our place in the world.

I slowly got up, wincing from the pain but fortunately not losing use of the leg like Cynthia had. She'd warned me about that creature. Hopefully it was the only one. My time was completely gone, I knew. Unless things had gone terribly wrong on B3, Regina would have returned and realized that I was gone. Was she surprised? Sadly, she knew my plan, and would almost certainly check here first. I would have to abandon the B2 data to the raptor, who had finally given up and curled up on the floor, still watching carefully.

I made it to the end of the corridor, blood dripping behind me and leaving an obvious trail that I could do nothing to hide. I'd have to use the facility's technology to stop my human pursuers in the same fashion as the animalistic one; at least the dinosaurs can't use key cards.

I activated the emergency escape hatch in the researcher's bedrooms, noticing a significant amount of blood staining the ground nearby. Cynthia was right, the unlocking mechanism was ridiculous, but I had the password.

Except it didn't work. Her previous failures must have reset the entire thing, so this useless piece of garbage of a system was going to force me to manually find the code. It would be simple, but time-consuming. I unlocked the first two locks, and then heard something that made every muscle in my body tighten with anxiety.

Several gunshots rang through the hall outside, and I clearly heard the dying screams of that trapped raptor. A muffled voice said something, and I turned back to the terminal as it finished displaying the last code.

I entered the letters furiously, faintly hearing steps. They were coming. The hidden door in the wall began sliding up, groaning from lack of use, and then I heard the room's other door opening.

"Hold it!" a male voice cried, and I refused to let it happen again. I ducked into the dark staircase revealed by the hidden door and fired three shots back at the entrance, then ran down the stairs and slammed the close switch on the other end. It began sliding closed, but I fired another shot up the stairs to keep them at bay. And someone fired back, one loud, far more deadly sounding shot coming down the shaft and landing in the wall behind me, the sound echoing down the massive transport tunnel in which I'd emerged.

The door was nearly closed, but my attackers fired no more shots and said nothing else. When the door slammed shut I looked to break it and found nothing that could be done. Level A. clearance was needed to use the console, and the locks would've reset. Either way, I had some more time.

I was exhausted. I hadn't slept for a day, and had been surviving alone in the facility for hours. Kneeling down against the wall, I realized I couldn't identify the man who'd shot at me. He had a familiar voice, but the moment was too heated and the words too short to identify him. Had S.O.R.T decided killing me was the best course of action? Would they shoot first if we met again? I reloaded my pistol, grimly observing that I only had six bullets left. I'd always expected the soldiers to do the killing in a situation like this, so I'd just stuck with whatever spare gun they had in the armoury. Never rely on anyone except yourself and you'll experience less disappointment.

The transport passage was cold, spotlessly clean, and lit with those same fluorescent lights I so hated. My leg ached, my head ached, and I was tired in every sense imaginable. I'd been hunted the entire night. Dissenting researchers, government soldiers, ravenous dinosaurs: mindless beasts come in all sorts of forms.

What Paul had said was completely true. Third Energy was being developed as an ultimate energy source, but only in the greater interests of using it as a weapon for the state. I'd killed him for confronting me over it, partially in self-defense, but not enough to justify the act that way.

Why had it angered me so? I smashed the man's head into a wall so hard that his nose exploded in a spray of blood and screams; then I poisoned him with the same gas he'd been researching for two years. Of course the military wanted the technology as a weapon, either as its own type or to power others. Why did he blame _me_ for that? I'd accepted long ago that ethical concerns were such a ridiculously optimistic thing to request of the state that I'd concentrate solely on the science, on what could be done and not what should be done. I would give the world the ultimate energy source and the ultimate weapon; let them do what they will with my work.

And the trouble with scientific research is that once the box is opened, it can't be closed again. We all saw what the explosive overload meant. There is no series of events that would lead to Third Energy existing without the weapon also existing. If I refused, someone else would make the same discovery, and perhaps they'd only concentrate on the weapon at the expense of the energy system. Hiding the truth because humanity is too weak to know it is abhorrent.

Cynthia might have understood. She said as much at the end. As scientists, there was no turning back once we realised. Perhaps that's why I didn't kill her. Perhaps others felt similarly. How can you ever really know the motivations behind anything a person does?

Would Regina have understood? Was there some series of words that I could say to make her understand? She gave me the opportunity, but it would've been wasted. For an instrument of the state, she was hopelessly naïve. I suspected the other one, Gail, knew this quite well. His obsession with duty and orders surely stemmed from the same logic. But discussion with him would be completely out of the question.

At least one of them would be on floor B2; if I moved quickly, this could all be over before they even realized what I'd done. But it felt like I'd been saying that all night, and being wrong every time. Being wrong again was absolutely unacceptable.

I'd made a lot of plans regarding escape, but what would I do once I'd succeeded? The answer didn't come. It was a question to ask after I'd retrieved the Stabiliser.


	5. Chapter 5

After far too much difficulty, I finally reached the transport passage that concealed the special weapons storage area. For one of the most important parts of the facility, its entrance was rather inconspicuous. I'd even go so far as to call it underwhelming, but it served its purpose too effectively for that. This small door hidden at the back of a logistics and cargo area concealed some of the only things in the entire facility that were of any real value.

Yet again, it was evident that something was wrong. I could hear some sort of deep, booming noise on the other side of the far shutter, far more intimidating than the quiet, cautious steps of the raptors had been. It would be best to finish my business quickly, before they realised I was here. My feeble pistol and its six shots weren't even a match for one of the raptors, as my deeply slashed leg served to remind me.

And then I saw it. A thick brown mass on the floor behind a truck, clearly a dinosaur, but not one I could name. It was absolutely massive, and had talons to match. I moved quickly towards the door, hoping to get inside before it awoke, but the lights suddenly began flickering. And then the facility began to shake, clearly being rocked by something of immense power. I quickly remembered that this floor was the first to fall silent.

But it was the Third Energy generator. It had to be. The fools must have activated it, but whatever could they think that would achieve? And without a full team monitoring the controls, it would overload within minutes. Suddenly things seemed even more urgent. It might be a lure to draw me back to B2, unless… could they have found one of the vortexes generated by the experiment?

I'd only seen a simulation of one, but theoretically there would be a few scattered around the place. Reactivating the generator would be the only way to destroy them. But how would they have known that?

I put it out of my mind. If they were busy up there, that couldn't be a bad thing for me. I entered the room as the creature stirred, seemingly woken by the activity. The cool blue lights and steel plates in this room were always soothing to me, a very welcome change.

Looking around, I saw everything was untouched. The security consoles, the thick glass security screen, the airtight doors. Nobody had been here since the Initializer and Stabilizer were returned shortly after the experiment.

I took a look at the security consoles, which acted as something of a master terminal for the facility's systems. The generator had indeed been activated. That made things interesting. I would have liked to check a few more possibilities, but simply could not spare the time.

I entered the second part of the three part storage. The military used this place to store biological weapons, experimental prototypes developed in response to their rival's superior nuclear weaponry. Colonel Clay had explained it all some time back, grimly looking at the devices as he justified their necessity to himself. Such things were particularly gruesome, even for a soldier like him.

I stepped into a small open-walled cargo elevator at the end of the room, pressed one of two switches on its control panel and ascended to a very small freezer room. And here they were. Concealed in two glass cases embedded in the frozen wall, the Initializer and Stabilizer sat. These were the absolute best we could produce in three years, and had resulted in the extremely important effects caused by tonight's experiment. I carefully opened the cases and put them in a transport case left by the elevator.

I breathed a sigh of relief. It was finally done. The simulation data, the devices, the analysis and results were all on my person. The data I'd been forced to abandon on floor B2 was ultimately expendable. There was even the possibility that the Borginians would send a full force here to sweep the facility clean, leaving the data available for anyone's collection.

Descending in the elevator, I looked around for the last time. Ibis Island had been useful for my work, but it was quite likely I'd never see it again after tonight. The case in one hand, and the pistol in the other, I stepped back into the biological weapons storage.

And then it happened, as I think I knew it must. I heard the metallic bang of a boot on the steel floor, saw the flash of vivid red, and saw the gleaming metal of the gun. She stepped out from behind the weapons canisters, shotgun aimed clearly at my chest, gloved finger on the trigger.

"Burning out the door's locking circuit was smart. But you didn't seriously think you'd evade me forever, did you Kirk?" Regina asked, taking another step, gun held steady.

"I expected you'd take longer to find this place, but there was little choice in the matter," I responded, staring at the weapon canisters lining the room.

"Right. Here's how we'll do this. Drop the pistol and kick it over to that corner," she said, gesturing. "Then slide the case over and hand over that level A. keycard."

I looked at the gun, realising I could get a shot at her leg off before I was blown apart. It seemed dramatic, but it was one of the few forms of escape left to a captive. The pistol hit the floor, echoing through the room. "I expected the other one, Gail, was it? I hope you didn't take my escape personally."

"Strange that you'd say that. You shot Gail, right through the shoulder. He followed a trail of blood into that rest area and saw you escaping through the wall. Nobody could get it open after that, though," she said as I dropped the key card.

"Ah. I see how it happened. You took that information and realised after activating the generator that I must be somewhere on this floor retrieving the second set of devices, since you used the first. At least my captor isn't entirely a fool, small consolation though it is."

"Hiding that level A. card was a good move; it slowed me down quite a bit. You went through a lot of trouble, but it's over. Now slide the case over," she replied, gesturing at the case with the shotgun.

I hesitated, but complied. I had little left to bargain with and she knew it.

"How did you even find a level A. card? Very few people had one, even down here," I asked.

"Rick found it in the pocket of a woman in the generator control room. She was unconscious, and didn't seem to need it," she said as she reached down to pick up the case.

I looked enquiringly at her, but said nothing.

"Done? Let's go. After meeting up at the generator, we'll head to the port and get out of this place. It took a lot of work to get that place ready for use. You'll be going ahead, so I can keep my eye on you."

I didn't move. "You know, we never did finish our last disagreement, agent." If this was really the way things had to go, I'd like to make it hard for her.

She looked quizzically at me. "You told me that by dismissing ethical concerns I was just avoiding difficult questions, I recall," I said.

"Yeah, and I still believe it. Not the time or place, though."

"I disagree. I have a theory, you see. I believe you're operating on false pretenses, and haven't even the luxury to ask those questions of yourself," I said, taking a step forward. The shotgun hadn't left my sight for a moment.

"And I believe you're stalling for time because you've got some plan in mind; we're leaving."

I still didn't move. "Let me show you. The data in this disc is what your superiors really want, and I can prove it. I'm entirely expendable." I said, holding up a small disc.

She looked unconvinced. "You _are_ the objective, and nobody even knew what you were researching down here. I'm taking the rest along as a bonus, and because you obviously won't leave it behind."

"I still disagree. I've thought about this ever since you left, you know. Your government had no interest in a system that could produce nearly infinite clean energy from the air. Very odd, you agree? But they changed their minds, and you don't wonder why?"

"Do you remember in the generator's control room, when you got so angry at me? I asked you to just tell me what you knew. None of this question and answer bullshit. You didn't do it then; are you going to do it now?"

I had my chance. Professional as she tried to be, this woman wasn't hard to manipulate. She showed me far too much leniency for a soldier. I carefully stepped up to her and extended the disc. "Put this in the terminal in the first part of the room and I'll show you. You can make your own judgments after that."

She looked at me for what felt like an hour, but did so without another word. Gesturing to the seat, she stood behind it to watch the screen… and watch me.

Taking the offered seat, I began unpacking the layers of security I'd used to secure my work. "This part will only take thirty seconds, I suspect."

I heard her activate the communicator with its distinguishing series of two beeps. "Rick, you there? I've recaptured Kirk, and some extras."

She paced the area, listening to his response. The data was already close to being unlocked.

"Tell Gail to stop worrying. He's unarmed and has no security cards left."

Looks like all three of them are still alive. "Give me at least half an hour; things are even rougher on this floor now. She woke up again? Okay, do what you can, Regina out." That was a curious series of words. Looks like my plan worked, for all the good it did me. Is that the cost of morality?

I turned back to the screen and opened the first of the files I intended to show her. This one was the footage from the first failed experiment, showing the immense explosive power of a Third Energy overload. From there I'd show the weapons development data and the design schematics for prototype weapons, and the proof that the military specifically ordered this work. I expected that would be enough to prove my point, but there was more damning evidence than we could look at in an entire day.

Ever since our chat in my lab, I'd had a curious interest in this girl. She was clearly intelligent, had an interest in morality and ethics, and wanted to believe she was doing the right thing. But she was also very much interested in turning theory into action and taking the practical option. I began to see that if she had truly been so mislead on this assignment, I could use that to my advantage. Could she truly believe delivering me and my weapons data to _anyone_ was justifiable? She'd always know when the first city fell to the weapon that she was just as culpable as the rest of us and our blood-stained hands.

The look on her face as she watched the experimental footage and read the military's annotations kindly added by Colonel Clay and his team said it all, really. I couldn't help but smirk spitefully as she sat to watch the next in a long list of incriminating files.


	6. Chapter 6

"At those specifications we'd need to design the system accordingly to the third plan. An array of generators throughout the republic feeding both into the main power system and separate weapons installations located in these positions," said the image of a thin middle-aged man in a Colonel's uniform, pointing at specific positions on a map to two other men recorded in the footage.

After seeing the footage recorded at the first failed experiment, Regina had been curious, but ultimately unaware of the implications of what she'd seen. I used the opportunity to ask her what a system capable of generating such immense power would be capable of if only we humans could fully master that energy source, bending it and its strength to our will and forcing it to do as we desired.

It was a simple enough idea; she realised immediately what I was implying, what the Stabiliser research would be used for. By then I'd shared the next piece of evidence, delaying questions until their most satisfying moment. And after that, another piece revealing more of the puzzle. This one showed a meeting between the good Colonel, me, and a rather cold Lieutenant who would often travel between Ibis Island and Borginian headquarters. This took place back when we were discussing the feasibility of various designs.

"It would be expensive, but a great deal of funding could be diverted from existing energy sources, since we'd no longer need to rely on coal," said the Lieutenant, a younger man with short black hair.

"The important consideration is the coverage given by this array of weapons systems. They could be used individually or combined into a far larger explosion. Importantly, each component will be connected, meaning the entire system would need to be destroyed to render it inoperable," my former self told them, pointing to the lines connecting each part of the system on a large screen.

"And targeting? This certainly provides enough power and security, but hasn't progress on those systems has been extremely slow, Doctor?"

I could still see myself tighten in irritation. "Yes. The Stabiliser is still unreliable, and we cannot precisely target when it can't control the flow of excess energy from leaking and destroying our own installations."

"Even the generators aren't going to work until that's finished. Your funding's been increased as asked, but the generals are expecting results soon. If your Third Energy can't be relied on, that funding is going to have to go elsewhere," said Colonel Clay, running a hand over his tired face.

"Defensive uses are the main priority. If we can just use the Third Energy in a limited area to destroy enemy weapons and forces, that'll give us the time to complete the rest. Kirk, is the experiment still scheduled for-"

The footage cut off suddenly as Regina ejected the disc and pocketed it, turning to me in clear anger and grabbing me by the collar.

"I've seen enough. So your energy project was just a cover for a weapon with enough destructive power to destroy an entire army in less than a second? You thought that showing me that would help you?" she said, fist clenched in wrath, but suddenly throwing me back into the chair.

"Oh no, the energy project was the whole point. Once my experiment failed, the military realised what tremendous power Third Energy could produce and asked if there was a way to produce that effect under controlled conditions. The Borginians wanted the energy system, but the prospect of such a weapon also appealed to them greatly," I explained simply and calmly, straightening my shirt at the same time.

"And you agreed? You told them what to do and how, and spent years developing a system to unleash that kind of devastation on the world? You're scum. Vile, amoral trash."

"Yes, amoral is something we both agree on. But as I said, I don't care about that. I offered them an ultimate energy source and an ultimate weapon, and they chose both. Is the creator to blame?" I asked her, stretching my injured leg back.

"Of course you're to blame! You should have refused, said it wasn't possible, said you wouldn't do it. The world has nothing to gain from such a creation; you don't think we have enough 'ultimate' weapons?" she furiously answered.

"Naïve girl. You're even more of a fool than I thought if you're stupid enough to believe that,' I sneered at her, having predicted that response but finding it no less infuriating. She was far too worked up over this.

I paid for that. She kicked me right in the wounded leg, causing thick dark blood to drip furiously down my leg and onto the floor. Her boot was coated in my blood, perhaps indicating the wound was more troubling than I'd thought. I had to suppress a scream of agony, though. Difficult as it was, I refused to give her the satisfaction.

I looked up, gasping and gripping the side of the table. "Do you think that's enough, girl? It's absolutely pathetic, seeing you try to act the moral part, pretending you have the slightest ground to stand on. That _you_ can preach ethics to _me_," I seethed, grasping the wound and pressing my ruined clothes to it.

She looked disgusted right then. Like I was a lower life form, or perhaps a deluded madman. It was entirely natural; agents of the state are 'heroes' by definition, and doing the bidding of the strongest could only be just to them. Perhaps I was wasting my time and would be better goading her into finishing it.

"You really don't see, do you? It's so obvious, but you don't… you don't even try to see it," I murmured, looking past her to the cool blue wall.

"The existence of the weapon and the energy system. Do you honestly believe that either could exist without the other? That day, when the Third Energy overloaded and vaporized hundreds of people, we all knew what that meant. How could we not see what we'd created for what it was?

I stood, resting my blood soaked hand on the wall for support. Again she moved into a defensive position, ready to raise the shotgun and end me at the slightest moment. It was rather amusing to be considered such a threat when I was unarmed, untrained and injured.

"Scientific progress cannot be stopped. It cannot be halted, and it can barely even be slowed. Even if I'd shot myself the day after the experiment, that would only delay things for a time. Five years, perhaps more. The data exists, the researchers know, and even if you managed to destroy every trace of Third Energy and butchered every person who'd so much as heard its name, someone would discover it the exact same way I did. _The weapon already exists. The only question is how long until its perfected."_

"And you consider that justified? Someone's going to do it; it might as well be you?"

"I discovered the concept. I developed the technology. I designed the entire energy system and wrote the theory it's based on. To have anyone else take my work, mutilate it, defile it, and then claim it as theirs? No, I intend to see Third Energy through, wherever that leads. Blame the world for being too stupid to handle it, or if you like blame god for creating such things. My name will be unstained."

She stared heavily at me for a time; then collapsed into the chair with a sigh.

"I know why you showed me this. Even why you bothered answering those questions, I suppose. You're probably right, my government must know about the project. Of course it'd go to this much trouble to find out how to use your research for its own ends. Our country is as militaristic as they come, we always need new ways to kill," Regina muttered, tapping a key on the console idly.

"You wanted me to feel like I couldn't take you back to them without being a party to war crimes. Death and destruction on a grand scale, without limits on who or what could be destroyed. And who knows what they'll make of the device that spawned those dinosaurs."

"I wasn't wrong, was I? You deliver me to them, and you yourself are complicit in each and every death. You know I'll continue the work even if the flag I toil under changes. So a_m_ I wrong?"

She'd lost quite a bit more than the half an hour she said she'd take to return to her team, but that could only be good for me. Nobody had called in, but military procedures varied from place to place.

"I don't know. You said it yourself, there's nothing that can get rid of this weapon forever. If I believe you, taking you back, letting you go, shooting you dead… they're all ultimately the same."

"I imagine you're right. The question is, do _you_ want to be the one responsible? After all, delivering me to your government is perhaps the fastest way for the project to be completed. Perhaps there will be a time when the world can handle that kind of power? Is it today, do you think?" I asked mockingly.

"Shut up, Kirk. Fuck you and your Third Energy. You think you're so far above it all don't you? Oh, you discovered the theory and did the research and developed all the tech, even the fucking weapon itself, going so far as to sit in on military meetings to make sure they get it right, and here you are pretending to be a god high above it all when you're deeper into the shit than the rest of us combined. Fuck, Kirk, you put the shit there to begin with," she declared, glaring right at me like some sort of scorned priest or some such rubbish.

"You're a lot more entertaining than the people I'm used to. You started out angry, and then calmed down, now you've started up on the insults. So much of my life is dull, I have to admit. Maybe it's not just my life, do you find that? It doesn't really matter what I do, the dullness never leaves for long," I suddenly said, inadvertently going out on quite a tangent. I was enjoying myself; despise the strangeness of my position.

"Fun, huh? If it helps, I don't think I've ever met anyone as full of shit as you. Eloquent people are usually full of shit. Maybe that's why they're such good speakers. You find that to be true, Doctor?"

"Now be quiet. I honestly don't know what to do with you now, but I need to talk to Gail. So we're going back to the control room, even if we are late. I'll get the truth out of him, but you might not get along well, considering you did shoot him," she remarked, getting out of her seat at last.

"Strictly speaking, I didn't know it was him at the time," I clarified.

"Oh, that'll make it all better. Great."

"If I had, I might have put more effort into my shots," I muttered, staring at her as she checked the shotgun's ammunition.

Things had taken a very interesting turn, I thought. She'd be given a very unsatisfactory answer from the boss, I suspected, and then the real fun would begin. The blue steel of this room managed to look rather impressive when stained with blood, a great improvement on the floors above. She picked up the case that contained my precious devices and looked over at me.

"You're going first, since I don't trust you in the slightest."

Sighing, I stepped forwards into the main room, when the door on the other side opened of its own accord. I ducked back behind the console before whatever misery had come could see me.

"Hey, this is the place, right?" a familiar male voice asked.

"Y-yes, this is where we keep it all," an even more familiar voice responded.

I felt Regina's strong grip on my shoulder, pulling me behind her. She edged forwards with her gun held ready. She exchanged a glance with me, but I couldn't say what it meant.

"Great. You've been a real help. Sorry it had to be this way, but you know," the first voice cheerfully remarked before a gunshot reverberated through the room and something crunched against the floor. You didn't have to be a genius to work that one out, though my actually being a genius made it hard to tell.

"After all this time that felt kind of nice. Shame he had to spoil it by cooperating so much," the voice said.

And then Regina dashed forward, darted around the corner and aimed her shotgun right at the intruder. I heard a sharp intake of breath from her and couldn't think of that being a good sign.

"Hey, we've got some rather unexpected company. Mind telling me who the fuck you are? Nobody that good looking's been stationed here in years, so I figure you're creeping around here for the same reason I am," the voice said, just as cheerfully as before.

"Not right now. Put the guns down, both of you. You know one shot is going to take you both out."

"You know, that I'm-so-superior response answered the question for me. You're military, right? Borginian, or otherwise?"

I was absolutely frustrated by my inability to recognize his voice despite it being so familiar, but it sounded like a two against one situation that she could easily lose.

"Otherwise. And who exactly are you? Looks like you just shot an officer, but you're dressed in Borginian uniform and lab equipment."

"I can see this dragging on a bit, so why not indulge you. The name's Mike, I'm a researcher here. Or was, I suppose. He's one of my buddies, keeps an eye out for trouble."

I groaned internally at that. Mike was one of the dissenters, had been for a long time. I'd never seen much of him, but he always seemed to hang around Paul. Security said he was probably involved, but nobody ever caught him the way they did Paul. It was hard to imagine how he'd survived for so long. More troubling than that, I knew very little about the man.

"I've got no business with you. Either you drop the guns, or turn around and leave. Those are your optio-"Regina began in an authoritative voice before I walked out and she cut off, glancing back at me in irritation. The first thing I saw was the corpse of Colonel Clay, who'd been shot in the back of the head, laying in a pool of his own blood. They must have used his clearance to get down here, and he would've known exactly where to find anything of worth.

Mike stood on the other side of the room, a tall, gaunt man with short hair and an angular face. Something about his face made me uneasy, though he was wasn't ugly. He was wearing half a military uniform with a red coat and heavy boots. He had one hand in his coat pocket and the other loosely holding a pistol at his side. His 'buddy' was a veteran soldier, a muscular man in full combat equipment with some sort of assault rifle. Despite his carefree attitude, Mike was standing slightly behind the soldier, who had his rifle halfway to firing position before being sighted by Regina and her shotgun.

Mike whistled appreciatively at that, for who knows what reason. "Can't say I expected that, but I don't know why it'd be a surprise either. Of course you'd be here for the fucking Stabiliser. Everyone wants that thing. I bet this lovely young lady's here for it too, unless she came for you, Kirk. Must be nice to get some attention at last. Of course it was too much to ask for you to just get eaten a few hours back by some beastie."

"So you want the Stabiliser? And what exactly would you do with it? A career on floor B1 hardly prepared you for using it in any meaningful way. Are you going to sell it? Trade it off? You scum never understood the potential of Third Energy," I said condescendingly, sneering at him.

"Nah, nothing like that. You get too ahead of yourself, never a very flattering trait. I was going to smash it to pieces, actually."

I stared at him, dumbfounded, but to my right Regina lightly touched a button on her wrist communicator; the button turning a dim blue for a brief second.

Mike grinned at me, though it looked anything but friendly.

"You being here saves me quite a lot of time, I'd say. You see, it's just no use destroying that shit if you're here to design new ones. So you're going to have to go the same way as Clay."

"I don't know what your problem with the Doctor is, but I'm not going to let you kill him," Regina declared, taking a step to the right.

**"**You people are a bit of a nuisance. I almost got caught by some muscleman earlier, looked like one of your friends. Look, killing Kirk is in everyone's best interests. Except his, I guess. But even that's up for debate," Mike said in a pacifying tone.

"There's something I never quite understood about you people. For all the potential of this project, you've both worked on and opposed it for years. Do you just need something to give your lives meaning, or is there an actual objection? It's a shame I didn't ask your little leader, Paul, before his unfortunate demise," I asked suddenly.

"_'__Unfortunate demise'_, yeah that's one way of saying you crushed his skull and gassed him to death. He wasn't even armed, you scum. Paul was never the leader anyway. He was a good guy, and could get a job done, but he played the part because we knew you were such an arrogant prick that you'd fall for it," laughed Mike, scratching the back of his head with the hand holding the pistol. His comrade and Regina were still watching each other carefully.

"Now, talking to you always pissed me off Kirk, so I'm going to speed things up. I want you dead because you've managed to turn a theory that promised to solve half the world's problems into a weapon so promising that it'll probably solve them by killing off anything smart enough to _have_ problems. Kill you, smash your devices, kill anyone else who knew about this weapon business, and modify the data so that there's not even the slightest trace that could lead to its production ever again."

I found it very curious that he'd come to this conclusion. After all this time, that was their concern? They wanted to have the power of Third Energy without the risk. To have the good without the bad, and to do something almost completely impossible by any measure. For this, they'd butcher me and many others, sabotage the project, falsify the data, destroy the best work we'd achieved so far, and actively fight against the military, going so far as to kill a Colonel. He'd even convinced some of the soldiers to join him, it would seem.

I could almost admire their dedication, if the goal and ideology weren't so ridiculously unrealistic. Even Regina had started to see as much after making the same argument. Could the man be so foolish? Surely someone who had the intellect to have come as far as he had, even setting up Paul as a decoy, would see the problem. Unless he wanted something else entirely, he was quite the devotee.

And what of Regina, her allies, their mission, and all that this could mean? I could see by Clay's corpse that Mike was serious; he would kill me, and the cold look in his eyes, so different from his warm smile, told me the second Regina dropped her guard these two would gun her down. I actually felt like I was on her side, if only by necessity, and because I'd be a corpse the instant she dropped her guard. It was rather amusing, remembering my indecision at the heliport and the way that slight lack of movement saved her life. Now it was her turn to do the decision making. Relying on someone else was nothing but miserable, but this man was threatening to destroy not only me, which would be mildly acceptable, but every trace of my entire life's work, modifying what wasn't destroyed into a complete misrepresentation of the truth. It was an unacceptably perfect threat.


	7. Chapter 7

Mike glanced at me, head slightly tilted. His eyes darted over to his companion, who remained stubbornly silent. I did the same to Regina, receiving another unreadable response.

"I really didn't want to have to go this way, especially since I don't know this woman or why she'd be protecting you, but I don't see a whole lot of other options, said Mike, shrugging.

"How about you take the devices and leave?" Regina suddenly asked, looking directly at Mike. I immediately opened my mouth to correct the situation, but Mike cut me off with a wave.

"It's a lovely offer, but Kirk's just going to make new ones. My counter offer is that _you_ leave and go back to wherever you came from. Or you can join us, if you like. I still don't know who you are, but I like a bit of diversity in my friends."

"She's here to return me to military custody, the same people who I escaped from in the first place," I stated in a disinterested tone.

Mike laughed at that, clearly enjoying himself. But more importantly, I thought, his ally's rifle crept up slightly.

"They were so interested in your ideas that they cut all funding and now they want you back? Come on, Kirk, don't be so condescending. They figured out what you were really doing too, huh? I bet you were hoping we'd just say 'Oh. Okay then. Off you go," when we heard that, weren't you?" he said, still laughing.

He turned to Regina and looked directly at her. "If you take him back, you're gonna be known as the woman who facilitated the creation of the next nuke. You really want that on your conscience?"

"What I do with him depends on a few things, and none of them involve you."

He grinned at her, taking half a step forward. Whatever he intended to happen next was cut off by the sound of gunfire from outside. Two bursts, one very different from the other, rang through the transport hall outside, muffled by the thick metal walls. The door opened and a short man in a soldier's uniform backed in, firing another burst into the hall before diving back behind the door.

Seeing Mike and the other soldier, who'd fully raised his rifle at Regina in the commotion, the man shouted furiously at him, 'Someone's out there, they've got a big fucking gun. They missed me by like a metre, Mike!""

Mike slammed his hand into the back of his head in frustration. "More agents, or did some of Clay's men survive?"

The older soldier nodded his head back at the newcomer. "Take cover behind that terminal; cover the door with Kirk as a hostage. I'll handle the woman. Mike, get those devices and get out of sight," he commanded in a booming voice.

What an absolute mess of a situation, I thought just before being dragged behind the terminal like a bag of trash. Regina watched as Mike shrugged apologetically and snatched up the devices from behind her, retreating into the biological weapons storage area. Her shotgun was still carefully aimed at the soldier's chest, since he was clearly the biggest threat. He seemed to think the same of her, but neither of them looked willing to fire.

"I've seen your type before. You can handle covert work, but this is something quite different. Are you sure you want it to go this way?" he asked.

"What I'd like has never been much of a priority. I think even you could sympathise there, soldier," she replied, shrugging.

And then the door began sliding open, smoothly gliding open the tracks that held it in place. I couldn't see what was happening from my position, but my new captor, a man I vaguely recalled seeing on the first floor once, aimed at something by the door.

"I've got a gun to your back, so I suggest you drop yours," a quiet, serious voice said from the doorway. I broke my captor's grip and looked up to see the same man from the heliport, Rick, holding a rather large rifle to the senior soldier's back. The third man was focused on Rick and Regina on the leader. I'd never seen such a tangled web of guns, but couldn't think of it ending without bloodshed.

"You took long enough to respond, Rick. I've been here for a while now," Regina chastised, looking carelessly at Rick.

"Yeah, yeah. Now could somebody explain what's going on here? You guys are survivors, right? We're here to help, not to fight you," Rick said, looking at the man who'd shot at him.

"Not as simple as that. They want Kirk dead, and aren't leaving until he is. The Third Energy was being used as fuel for unimaginably powerful weapons; that's what this is really about."

"Hold on. What weapons? This place holds a generator, not weapons. I checked all the rooms myself."

I didn't know this man, and didn't know his temperament. He seemed sentimental, though, which didn't seem like a good sign for my continued wellbeing.

"Look, this is getting out of hand. Everyone in here, drop your weapons until we can sort this out. Then we can all agree to shoot Kirk and be done with it," said a suddenly irritable sounding Mike, who'd re-entered the room.

I saw Regina look at Rick, then the man she was so close to killing. All three slowly lowered their weapons, and the man next to me dropped his with a sigh of relief. Must be a new recruit to be so jumpy, I thought.

I walked up to Mike. "The Stabilizer?"

"I told you I'd smash it, and so I did. Crushed it under the elevator and ripped the core out. Probably needs a more thorough treatment, I adm-"his remarks were cut off by my hand grabbing his throat and throwing him back into the wall. I didn't get any further due to Regina's intervention.

My head hit the wall as she threw me to the side effortlessly, filling it with a rather sharp pain as I recalled hitting the same spot on the hangar floor several hours before. How such a lithe woman could be so physically powerful I couldn't say, but she seemed stronger than half the soldiers I'd ever known despite their massive physiques.

Mike glared at me, rubbing his throat and coughing. "I never thought you had it in you, Kirk. Why so much anger; I know there's another set somewhere. That generator activation from before can't exactly have used the set in here, could it?"

I longed to crush that man's windpipe. How could such a manipulative piece of filth have lived under my nose for so long without my realizing? This situation had been out of my control for far too long.

"You," I said, turning to Mike, "are the most ridiculously stupid creature I've ever had the misfortune to come across."

He looked intently at me, obviously waiting. I saw Regina and Rick quickly glance at each other as the soldiers stared at them, clearly uncomfortable without their weapons.

"Do you know why I think so? Because your plan is so utterly and completely impossible to successfully complete that I can see no other alternative. The overload phenomena is at the very core of Third Energy, and all anyone needs to start the weapons research is that knowledge. You will never have use the Third Energy without someone learning this soon after," I stated, sneering at the man as he looked thoughtfully at me.

He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the newcomer. "Hold on for a minute, what you said wasn't a joke, was it? But what _is_ this weapon, what does it do?" Rick asked quietly, staring at both of us.

I looked at him carefully and responded. "The Third Energy overload causes a vaporizing explosion of immense strength. Focused, refined, and targeted properly, it can be used to completely destroy anything and everything within a massive radius. The weapon was an array of these weapon systems drawing power from a second array of generators."

The look of shock on his face was quite amusing, really. "But… wouldn't that mean," he started, before Mike cut him off.

"It means that the Third Energy can be used to annihilate thousands of people within a single second. Destroy an entire city and leave not even a trace to show that it was ever there to begin with. And who knows what can be done with the effects it's shown tonight. Now do you see why he has to die?" he demanded.

"But the generators also solve the problem of finite power. They have the potential to resolve so many of the world's problems, to bring in a new era free of the fight for resources," I responded, tired of his moralizing, so inconsistent with his actions.

"A new era of domination is all your Third Energy will ever achieve. The military will keep every part of the technology for itself, and all your life will ultimately achieve is more war and more suffering." His initial carefree manner had quickly evaporated into a much more somber mood.

The room fell quiet. All six of us looked incredibly fatigued. I loathed Mike for all he'd said and done, but it was impossible to ignore his reasoning. The military _had_ taken the project for themselves, and they would never share something that could so easily be modified into a product capable of annihilating an entire nation in a single night. We'd never even come close to realizing that reality, but it was only a matter of time.

I sat down on the cold floor, head resting on the control console. "There's nothing you could do to stop it. Not anymore. Scientific progress cannot be halted, you must know that."

Suddenly Regina stepped over to Mike, who looked rather peculiarly at her. The sound of those heavy boots was becoming somewhat soothing now that she might be the only one standing between me and a bullet to the brain. All the guns still lay on the floor where they'd been left.

I watched as she stopped right next to him. "You know, one thing's been on my mind since you came in here. You say you're a researcher, but you sure don't act like one, and you're not even dressed like one. Who are you really?"

And to that I saw his right fist clench and his entire body stiffen, perhaps with anger.

The older soldier walked over to them, slowly but with clear presence. Regina waited expectantly with the air of someone used to hearing confessions, turning slightly to watch both men but not appearing intimidated by their proximity.

"My history before this place was rather colourful, to say the least. I used to be a member of a very different research project, deep in the murky ranks of the military," he started, pausing to slowly look at the soldier. "We were stationed in a warzone, if you'd call it that. It was a border uprising that got out of hand. I was developing biological weapons when the order came in. I saw, and did, some truly terrible things in that place."

I realised I'd been holding my breath when I heard Regina sigh. She opened her mouth to respond, but the soldier shook his head and she stopped, looking back at him.

"That uprising was little more than a massacre. His team was ordered to test their weapons on the populace, and I was the leader of a squad ordered to guard them while they worked. I've seen my share of combat, but that was something else entirely. The military had them all killed, but there wasn't any real reason. All we knew is that they'd rebelled against our rule and the higher ups used that to justify using them for experimentation."

I heard Rick shout something, running up to the three of them. The third soldier was watching, clearly terrified. I thought I knew the uprising they referred to, but the reports had been fairly standard, I recalled.

"How could you do that? And now you're actually taking the moral high ground here after all you've done? How could the military get away with that?" cried Rick in disbelief.

"After the war I retired. I tried to kill myself first, but couldn't pull the trigger. Some of the prototypes I produced are kept in this very room, ready for emergency use. They stationed me here doing extremely boring work to keep me quiet, but slowly I realised this place felt just like my old base. That stench of secrecy and malice is too hard to hide."

"The military can do as it likes, the way all militaries do, especially to a helpless populace. You're a soldier, how naïve can you be, boy?" said the curt voice of the senior soldier.

"So why are you still here, murderer?" I pointedly asked him.

"I'm here because you're going to turn into me, but what you're doing is going to make my crimes look like absolutely nothing. The military will keep the Third Energy for itself and use it to destroy its enemies and dominate the survivors, I know from experience. I did exactly that on their behalf. We've killed too many people to have any reservations about adding you to the list, Kirk."

Regina stood her ground, staring right into his eyes. "We're taking him back with us, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. I can't let you kill him, and he's right. The Third Energy can't just be erased from history. If your government could do that, we'll take him far away from them. You can come along if you like; I'm sure we can arrange," she started to say, before Mike waved her away.

"Thanks for the offer, but your government and mine are really no different. Like we said, they came here for that damned weapon too. Once it's developed, the proud new owner has a tool powerful enough to dominate any opponent they'd like."

Regina's communicator beeped, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. She answered, and then stepped into the storage area to take the call privately. Must be Gail, I thought, wondering why they'd taken so long to do something so simple.

Rick collapsed into one of the seats. "I've had some pretty immoral orders in my time, but I always tried to do the right thing. If we take him back, all those deaths are going to be on my head just as much as his," he murmured to himself.

I was still lying against the wall, having silently listened to their chatter for some time. Regina's fallen shotgun was just within my reach, I noticed. But what use would escape be at this point? She had the data disc; Mike smashed the devices to pieces, he claimed; the B2 data was out of reach… it was hopeless. We'd been in this damned room for quite some time, and I'd only gotten further away from a favourable outcome. If it came down to it, could Mike and his soldiers outshoot Regina and her friend? If I'd really shot their buffoon of a leader in the shoulder he'd likely be unable to fight, leaving just the two of them.

"Hey, Mike, was it?" Rick suddenly asked. "Yeah, what is it?" he replied, leaning on the wall and looking at Rick.

"If you gave up your research, why couldn't he?" Rick asked, pointing at me.

"Different personalities, for one thing. You heard him. He's going to keep at it until it's done or he's dead. Besides, he's never seen the results of weapons research like we have. By the time you realize, it's far too late."

"Casualties in their thousands, am I right? You designed a device that could only be used to destroy. I designed one that could create or destroy depending on the wishes of the user. I'm tired of being blamed for the foolishness and cruelty of humanity. I may have created the Third Energy, but actually using it was never of much interest to me,' I explained, exasperated with these fools and their misplaced blame.

"Now it's time you answered one of _my_ questions. You know killing me and stealing the research won't achieve your goal. Continuing on with such a futile mission is nothing but pointless, so _what do you intend to do_?"

And to that I actually made him look rather uncertain, but he never got the chance to respond because of the sudden opening of the door. Or perhaps I should have said _both_ doors. Through one stepped a heavily armed but quite clearly injured Gail. With all the guns on the floor, they were helpless, and Regina darted through the other one and retrieved her shotgun from its position by my leg.

"Nice timing, Gail, for the second time tonight," she said, aiming at Mike's chest as Gail stepped over Clay's corpse.

"I got so excited that I forgot about you. Guess that shows you how easy it is to fuck it all up once you're in a position to win," Mike said, slapping his friend on the back and shrugging.

"Regina told me about you. Sorry, but the doc's our problem from now on. I suggest you cooperate, or we're going to have to cut you down,' said the firm voice of Gail backed up by that gun he was still able to support despite the shoulder wound. Those pistol bullets really were pathetic, I mused as he stepped towards me.

"Doctor, come with us. We've got everything ready upstairs," Regina said, gesturing encouragingly.

And then the twitchy recruit, absolute fool that he was, picked up his gun from under the terminal and took a shot at Gail, almost crying with fear as he did so. It flew over his shoulder and hit the bulletproof glass behind. I was close, too close, and watched and heard the heavy fire from Gail's own gun shred his young body, splattering blood on the pristine steel wall behind. The man's crumpled body twitched as he tried to hold his left arm over the massive wounds in his abdomen, blood flowing from his mouth. Gail stepped over and shot him in the head, showing no emotion. I noticed that Rick looked horrified, but couldn't understand why. It had to be considered merciful to end that sort of suffering.

"Anyone else stupid enough to try that? No, I didn't think so," Gail said, heading for the door while Regina covered the other two. I had no military training, but to me the two of them seemed to work together far more effectively than they did with the third man.

Rick was still sitting in the seat, not even holding a gun. Mike looked over to me as I got up and headed for the door. "Just remember, Kirk. When it all happens like I said, remember what we told you, you bastard," he called out to me.

Regina wrapped her hand around my upper arm yet again and directed me to the door. Gail kicked their weapons over to Rick's corner as he finally retrieved his rifle. I watched him look at the oddly subdued security officer and give his orders. "Rick, I'm leaving these guys with you. Do as you see fit, but keep them from being a threat to the mission. When that's done, meet us at the port." With that said, he joined us and we left the room. As the doors shut behind us, I watched Rick stand there quietly, not saying a word, gun held loosely at his side.


	8. Chapter 8

The doors closed almost silently, concealing the men and corpses inside from the three of us. After all that had transpired, there was a rather odd sense of… well, something, between myself, Regina, and Gail. Those two had been the first to find me, and here I was all this time later still in their company. It was either a testament to their abilities or my thoughtlessness.

As soon as we passed beyond the sight of Mike and his friend, the arm holding Gail's rifle fell to his side loosely, and the man grabbed his wounded shoulder, grimacing. It looked like he'd been in quite some pain while putting on that show of force. Curiously, Regina looked slightly worried but Gail waved her away before she could do anything. My own leg had begun to ache furiously, though it still worked acceptably well.

I expected further lecturing, but it seemed like he had nothing to say to me. Probably for the best, considering our previous encounters. It sounded like we'd be heading back to the control room for some reason or other, and then directly to the underground port on B3. They had it all planned right to the last detail. Still, I was curious as to what exactly they would do with Mike and his men. The boss's orders had been oddly vague, and the man they left to take care of them was looking a bit out of sorts. If he wanted them executed, Rick didn't seem like the man to do it.

But executing them was easily the most practical choice. That man was like a snake; if given the slightest opportunity he'd cause all sorts of problems for them. All those countless issues I'd had while running the facility, and all that time he'd been behind them all. What a mess that had been.

We continued down the transport shaft, but back to the main storage area. I looked questioning at Regina, who glared back. "Problem, Doctor?"

To that I shook my head. I'd actually wondered why they'd decided to take such a route for a brief moment, but it occurred to me that they had no idea about the transport tunnels or where they went. That was for the best. The underground heliport at the end of those passages was a well-kept secret, only known to me and the recently deceased Colonel. The regular staff who knew of it were all off the island for the experiment's duration, leaving it a slight glimmer of hope for me.

Still, I reflected as we entered the B3 control room, what point was there in escape? The Borginians would be glad to have me back, I suspected, but it was no more guaranteed than the warm welcome I might expect when these agents returned me to my previous benefactors.

As we entered a large transport corridor, the two agents gunned down one of those beasts I'd seen sleeping near the weapons storage area. But that was of little interest to me. I couldn't help but think of Mike and all he'd told me. Biological weapons were crude but effective, though I hadn't seen them in action. He'd given up his work, but someone would be continuing in his place even as I stepped through this door. His rebellion and resistance had been entirely futile. Perhaps he was laying there with Clay now, his blood draining away.

I wanted him to realize how worthless his life had been, and how pointless his efforts had been. My work may ultimately be used to destroy, but surely the only rational course of action was to continue to research and refine the Third Energy. It was all my life could ever really achieve. And yet, for the first time the absolute hopelessness of my position became clear. I really was just like him, and so many others. We all searched so tirelessly for the truth, but ultimately it made little difference. Would having my name recorded in history truly be as validating as I'd expected? Perhaps not, but it was still my right to have that position. I could at least demand that much.

"This is it. Let's go," said the stern voice of Gail as we reached the elevator in the rest station. The corpse of yet another of my staff lay against the wall, the sight and smell of spilled blood and gore laying testament to yet another violent death wrought by the experiment and the creatures it spawned.

Entering the elevator, I watched as Regina used my very own stolen I.D card to take us back to the gloomy generator control room. This place had great significance to me, really, especially now that it was active and running, even if not particularly well.

I stepped over to the main terminal, curious to see how they'd used my generator. Yes, there had been another overload. That much was almost inevitable, but was it an intentional overload?

I was still satisfying my curiosity when I heard Gail order Regina to deactivate the generator and retrieve the devices. As if it was that easy to stop the reaction once it had been initialized. Yet it seemed to me that most of the preparations had already been made. A curious notion came to me, and I looked down to the spot where I was standing in front of the control terminal. The same spot where Cynthia had lay bleeding to death some hours before, as the stained metal grating proved. The deactivation procedures couldn't be found in any of the manuals left here; given their complexity and the way they varied depending on the output levels, they took a great deal more learning to comprehend than the activation method.

So did that mean that she really did survive? Or did they find someone else to do it for them? If she had died, they'd bothered to move the body, but I wasn't so sure. In retrospect, helping her bought me some time and would likely have raised their opinion of me, leading to less harsh treatment now. But it also seemed to give them everything them need to work the generator, simplifying their mission quite significantly. Was that a fair trade, compared to the alternative?

Of course, I was discounting the human value that people generally like to think of at times like this. I saved her life through a small, rather simple action. That sort of thing was highly respected by most, I knew.

Again I was interrupted, this time by Regina tapping my shoulder.

"Hey, try not to antagonise Gail. I convinced him we needed these devices, and I think we actually do, but he didn't have to authorise this," she said quietly, looking back at Gail as he wrapped more bandages around his shoulder by the elevator with the same cold precision that he had when he shot that soldier in the storage area.

"You did? I suppose I ought to thank you. But when you were in that room, the one with the biological weapons, did you see what that fool did with my devices?" I asked, fearing the truth.

"Yeah. He wasn't lying; they were both smashed, as far as I can tell, irreparably," she said, almost apologetically.

I slammed my fist into the controls. Of course he wasn't lying. "I hope your friend guns that bastard down for setting me back like that. That model was the best we'd achieved; the one used in here is missing some crucial parts added two months back," I groaned, losing my composure for a moment.

"He's doing what he thinks is right. Just like you, and me, and all of us," she said, leaning on the terminal. She actually sighed and rubbed her eyes, finally showing some emotion. "I don't even know if I'm doing the right thing. Gail's like a machine, he doesn't even question orders. After all you've said and done, and all that Mike bastard said and did, I can't really be sure of anything."

I watched her, saying nothing. Clearly she had something more to say to me.

"I… I actually feel like no matter what I do, somehow I've fucked up. You know what that's like? 'Cause it's pretty new to me." She stared intently at me, not for the first time.

I returned her gaze. "Yes, I do know," I softly answered.

I took a closer look at this woman who'd both saved and condemned me multiple times in the short time we'd been forced together. She had to be only a few years younger than me, but so much more naïve. I was considered something of a prodigy, having achieved so much before even reaching thirty, particularly considering that much of my work had been done outside traditional avenues for such things.

"Regina, get moving, or we're leaving without those devices," barked Gail from across the room, his already menacing voice amplified by the cavernous room's echo.

That made her jump up in a rather amusing fashion, running for the outer area to retrieve the devices like a trained dog.

Gail remained something of an enigma to me. He certainly had a sense of purpose, and clearly followed his orders to the letter. He looked to be near 40, definitely more experienced than the rest of his team.

Yet again, I was caught while deep in thought. The hulking man had walked up behind me while I watched her leave.

"Don't think there was anything to be gained by telling her what you did."

"Oh? And what was that?" I replied, smirking at him.

"You were developing a weapon for their military. Our orders were to find you and bring you back with us. _My_ orders were to recover all data on the weapon for our military. Judging by that little scene downstairs, I'd say you were keeping a few secrets yourself."

He stared directly at me, quite menacing despite the injury. "You didn't tell them; I didn't tell her. All you did by changing that was put her in danger. People like us, we don't make those decisions. Trying to do so will only get you or someone under you hurt."

Silence filled the room as we stood there, quietly contemplating each other. I couldn't be sure, but there was almost the slightest hint of resignation in his voice.

"When I arrived here, I thought of you as one of them. You ran this place; you developed this theory, this weapon. Surely you had some measure of control. But you don't, do you? No matter what you do or say, the outcome really doesn't change in the long term. And I think you know that all too well."

"That might be the case. But nobody else could possibly finish my work, and that has its benefits. All this frenzied commotion, all of it is because of me and what I've done. Surely that counts for something," I argued.

"And yet you still have no control over it. Just an important piece in a larger game, same as the rest of us. Remember that, Doctor."

With that said, he walked away, clearly wanting to be anywhere but with me. Well, I reflected as he left, perhaps we all had less control over our lives than we were taught to believe. That didn't change the remarkable effects that could result from even the smallest decision. If holding my hand back from locking a door had saved Regina's life, what would revealing information that completely unbalanced her entire worldview do in the long term?

But judging from the sound of running boots on metal, she was returning. Gail turned in that direction, picking his rifle up despite the effort of holding it. She went up to him and showed the devices, both secure in a bag. They seemed to be talking, but so quietly that I couldn't even grasp the basic idea of what they were saying. The generator was almost completely still now that the deactivation process was complete.

I stood by the main terminal idly as Regina began applying some sort of medicine to Gail's shoulder, which had started bleeding quite heavily. I was actually surprised that he hadn't treated me more harshly, considering that I was to blame for shooting him. I'd initially thought Regina's apathetic disinterest was unusual, but that paled in comparison to the lack of emotion this man showed for anything and everything. Unfortunately, the lack of activity gave me time to recall just how long it'd been since I'd rested. Stifling a yawn, I walked over to the power room to try and stay alert.

Poking my head into the dimly lit, ugly little room I saw Cynthia sprawled against the wall. The blood soaked into her lab coat seemed mostly dry, but it was difficult to tell because of the sheer quantity of the stuff. As I entered her head twitched up slightly, and she weakly waved with her functioning arm. Well, I thought, it wasn't much of a surprise, but the help I'd given wouldn't have done anything more than buy her another half an hour. But of course they would have finished the job. One of my head researchers was quite the backup prize, and from that work they did on the generator, it would seem their investment was well repaid.

"Looks like they got you too, Kirk? Suppose it could be worse," I heard her quietly say.

"They'll be taking us to the port, and then back to their government. If you survive the trip, I imagine you'll be well looked after. After all, you've already proven useful, even in this state," I told her.

"Yeah… I guess so," she said, gasping slightly. I looked closely and saw she was barely even conscious. Blood loss or sedatives, I wondered.

I sat on the workbench and looked back at the door. "I'm still not convinced. It would be far too easy for them to take my work and execute me, given my obvious unreliability." They'd have the devices and the data, and perhaps even a more cooperative researcher who'd designed many of the Stabilizer's parts. In light of that, perhaps I ought to have shot her. I knew there would be a perverse satisfaction in killing me and stealing my work to many of these people, considering our bitter previous relationship. Initially I'd denied any possibility of using the system as a weapon, believing that to be the truth, and shortly after that they slashed my funding. Needless to say, I didn't appreciate being disposed of so easily.

She was still watching me, or so I thought. Regina and Gail were still arguing, from what I could hear. I felt another flash of anger, stronger than before, coming on as inexplicably as I always did. Looking at my half-dead colleague, I bitterly said, "Third Energy will be completed. I'll make sure of that, and I expect you to do the same. Whatever these damn fools do with it after, well, that's not _my _responsibility. With any luck they'll use it to annihilate the human race, and I'll have the privilege of being the one who finally proved how hopelessly irrational humanity is and always would be."

Perhaps I heard a short laugh at that, but it was hard to tell. I might even have imagined it. I opened a notebook lying on the bench next to me, noting with some astonishment that it contained my I.D registration number and details of plans against me and the military. How could that idiot Mike (if that was even his real name) have expected to achieve his goal? He certainly put enough effort into it if he had friends on this floor, and with level A clearance. Was it truly so easy to turn these people against me?

But then the door open and Regina entered, bending down to check the now clearly unconscious Cynthia's wounds. "You know, I was surprised when I saw what you did for this woman, Kirk," she said, looking back at me as I threw the journal at the wall in irritation.

"Really? It was a rather practical decision, given the circumstances," I replied, hoping to get this conversation finished quickly.

"Yeah? I guess so. But if you'd just left her to die, we'd never have been able to activate the generator before finding you again. Or even known we needed to activate it. Who is she, anyway? Must be pretty important to have that clearance," she asked me, applying more bandages to her slashed breast.

"She's one of the head researchers. Stabilizer component design, among other things. I… I intended to let her die, or perhaps to end it myself. But something she said at the end changed my mind. She might be one of the few people here who didn't agree with Mike and his people. After that, either helping or shooting her was a risk, so I did something merciful to see where it would take me."

"I've been making decisions like that for long enough to know the merciful choice doesn't have to be impractical. It's never as black and white as that."

She paused, getting to her feet and looking back at her handiwork. "He was really here all that time? I've seen the evidence around this place, but what kind of military lets a man like that run free?" she asked, sounding rather puzzled.

"It's hard to say. Clay blamed me for alienating the researchers, but his demands caused the conflict to escalate. His corpse seems to indicate that he was assigned some fraction of the blame," I softly answered. It was refreshing, in a small way, to be able to explain myself to an outsider.

She leaned on the wall next to me, smirking for some reason that I couldn't even begin to recognize. "And you're sure you're making the right decision, taking us back?" I asked, waving vaguely at Cynthia.

"I can't see any other way to do this. I don't want you to develop that weapon, but if it's really so central to the Third Energy, there's nothing I can do to stop it. You really are sure Mike's idea was impossible? To modify the theory, changing everything to hide the weapon but keeping the energy?" she asked, poking at her communicator.

I thought cautiously about that. The idea of perverting the science, pretending it was something it wasn't to protect the foolish, disgustingly violent masses repulsed me. That said, it could work for a time if done correctly. Weapons development had never been my goal, but you don't decide on the applications of your research.

"You would need a situation in which the overload would never again result in that explosive reaction you saw in the disc's footage. If that could be hidden, and all mention of it erased, the Third Energy would appear to be nothing more than a revolutionary energy system," I finally admitted, dropping the slight air of condescension I usually used with her.

"And could it be done?"

I looked carefully at her, seeing a slight flicker of eagerness on that oddly eye-catching face. "Even if it could, hiding such a thing would never work for long. And it would compromise one of the only principles I ever adhered to just to stop the human race from destroying itself for a little longer. You must know, our grand societies are a pitiful joke doomed to destroy themselves far sooner than you might imagine."

"He's lying and he knows it," coughed a rather alert looking Cynthia.

"And what do you know about it?" asked Regina, moving past me to the prone woman on the floor. What a miserable time for her to wake up.

"That overload happened because of the Stabiliser design at the time. The exact same thing happened tonight, but we got dinosaurs, not an explosion. That's because of the changes we made, nothing else," she explained, having the audacity to smirk at me.

"So there are others ways to generate the energy, ones that could avoid those risks entirely?"

"The Third Energy can do all kinds of things. I always knew those military guys bought into the weapon business to the point that they forget the rest, but I didn't ever think you'd go the same way, Kirk," she bluntly stated. Coming from someone so pitiful looking, it was quite the condemnation.

I felt my fist clench in anger, almost shocked by her nerve. Regina looked curiously thoughtful, and I hated that too.

She put her hand on my shoulder yet again and I moved to brush it off, but she remained firm. "You didn't develop this system in isolation. Maybe she's right after all. What then?"

Sitting there in that miserable, cramped little room, I looked at those two women. Both of them were asking me to consider something I'd never have dreamed of doing. Erasing part of my life's work from history, but more than that: applying ethical standards to the practical work to which I'd dedicated my life.

After all, nothing more was said. But it was clear even to me that they both understood. My lack of objection served as verification just as much as a ringing endorsement.

The door opened, and we all jumped in surprise. Gail's stern face peered in, looking at Regina. "It's time; Rick's at the port waiting," he said, gesturing at us to follow him.

Regina looked around at everyone in the room. "We're taking the elevator, right? There's not enough room for four of us, not if I have to carry her."

Gail waved her objection away. "I'll go down first with Kirk and secure the area. Once we're down, bring her with you." That objection resolved, he looked at me and pointed out the door.

Shrugging, I looked at them, and left with Gail behind me as Regina awkwardly began looking for the best way to carry the injured woman without causing further damage. That scene caused a slight smile to appear at the corner of my mouth. Genuine amusement was always refreshing.

We entered the elevator silently, though he glared at me for some reason or other. Probably didn't even need a reason, really. Swiping a level A card in the control panel, he elected to send us to floor B3 and the port.

As the doors opened, it became immediately clear that something else would be happening, perhaps not according to his carefully laid plans. Rick stood just beyond the doors, looking anxious and unnerved. His rifle was held tightly in both hands and he looked right at us.

"You were supposed to be in the port, as ordered," Gail barked, almost, _almost_, losing his careful emotional control. It must be difficult for such an ordered man to lose control over his mission's outcome so many times in a single night.

And then I froze in place as the reality of the situation became clear. Gail exited the elevator and from the sides stepped the two men Rick had clearly been ordered to 'handle'. They were many things, but _handled_ was not one of them. Armed, however, was. Gail's rifle was halfway off the ground when Mike's muscular friend slammed into him, knocking the big man to the ground onto his wounded shoulder, which elicited a subdued grunt of pain.

Rick stood in place, looking almost as frozen as I was. Pathetic as it was, I couldn't even manage to send the elevator back up before a smirking Mike pointed his pistol at me.

"Well, fancy seeing you again so soon, Doctor," he said as I stepped out of the elevator into the brightly lit hall.


	9. Chapter 9

There I stood, glaring at the entire assembly of fools standing before me. The first time I was captured was humiliating for a variety of reasons. The second capture, when Regina ambushed me in the weapons storage room and started the chain of events that led to this damned mess, felt almost inevitable, if still the result of my own actions. Bearable, you might say.

This, however, was entirely different. Just as one set of captors finalized their plans to ship me off the island so like much luggage, a second set appeared and ruined it all. These agents were one thing, but to be looked down on so easily by men such as these was unthinkable. For a group of unimportant fools to cause this much damage all for _moral_ reasons, especially considering the war crimes they'd committed… was I the only one with any sense?

And I had to admit, something else had been troubling me. Why was it that in this place, the very centre of my power and achievement, I was the only one without a single ally? Gail was as unlikeable as anyone I'd ever met, but he had Regina's loyalty firmly secured. Mike might be charismatic enough to turn my staff against me, but he was a fool with an impossible plan. And yet he had allies scattered throughout my entire life, and a devoted friend who'd followed him to the island despite seeing the horrors he'd created. He'd even made some sort of deal with this Rick character, which is something I never even entertained as a possibility.

I felt myself shaken back to reality by Mike's voice, who'd clearly said all sorts of things that I hadn't heard. Suddenly it didn't seem to matter, as I realised that there was a much more interesting conversation happening. That nameless soldier was holding Gail back as he spat accusations at Rick, who was still rooted to the spot looking shattered.

"… think you'll achieve with this? Helping enemy personnel makes you as good as one of them yourself, and you know what that means," he condemned, seeming revitalized by Rick's actions.

"I didn't betray you, Gail," Rick replied softly. "And they aren't enemy soldiers. Just hear what they've got to say. There's a better way to do this."

"I had my doubts about you from the start. Regardless of what you think, it's not your call to make. That's what it means to be a soldier and you've never understood it."

The idea had been boiling away in the back of my mind for some time, but it chose this moment to finally emerge. I'd been under the control of other people for far too long; if I was to take back some semblance of power this moment could be one of my last opportunities.

"Maybe so, but when I joined the military I swore to myself I'd never obey an unethical command. You should know that by now. Remember Tom?"

Gail snorted. "Yeah, and that's why I had Regina backing me up and not you."

I watched Rick try to think of _something_ to say that could redeem him in the older man's eyes, but he gave up and looked sullenly at the floor instead. Behind him, Mike clapped his hand on Rick's shoulder, looking knowingly at me (though I couldn't say why) and reassuringly at him. The name he mentioned, Tom, was familiar to me, though it had to be a coincidence.

"You're taking this too hard, chief. Rick here just couldn't handle the thought of delivering that kind of destructive power to anyone, and rightly so. So we made a deal. We'd get Kirk's data and get rid of all the nasty bits. That way nobody gets hurt and someone can go on perfecting that infinite energy system I spent years working on. You get to finish your mission and nobody gets vaporized."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm afraid you're out of luck. Remember that delightful woman with the red hair?"

"Didn't she have you under a shotgun? Certainly seemed like she was the dominant one to me," he mused, scratching his chin. Gail was still under careful watch, but I noticed him glancing at the elevator. Perhaps he'd signaled an emergency. Rick had yet to move. Obviously the poor man was under incredible pressure.

"Yes, I think dominant is the best word for it. I hate to have to tell you, but she's got the only copy of my fully analysed research," I told him, grinning smugly.

"Of course she does. I gather up every last person on this fucking island here in this miserable little room _except_ the only one I actually want to see," he snapped, suddenly irritable. I appreciated that sudden sort of anger from experience, and enjoyed seeing his careful planning undone so easily.

Just as quickly, he seemed to calm and become thoughtful. "Then again, I suppose she'll be coming down in that same elevator. I'll have to deal with you first, Ed."

From my short history in military bases I made the reasonable assumption that 'deal with' was a euphemism.

But Rick finally moved, taking a few short steps to stand with me. "I told you, we're doing this ethically. If I'm going this way, I'm doing it all the way. There's no need to kill him" he firmly stated.

They looked to be readying themselves for a debate, and frankly I was tired of those. It couldn't be so difficult to just do something rather than whine over it for another hour.

"I'm tired of all this whimpering. All of you, state your exact intentions and be done with it," I demanded, waving dismissively at all of them.

"Lovely. I'll start," said a frustrated looking Mike to a frustrated looking room. "I'm going to get all the Third Energy data, modify it so all this Borginian weapons development is erased from history, and I'm going to stop Kirk from going back to those people. I'll try to find a way to get it worked on outside the military system, however difficult that might be."

Rick looking to want to say something, but was interrupted by Gail. "I'll be following my orders. Kirk's coming with me, and so is all his data. What it's used for or why isn't my concern. "

I looked rather curiously at them. "How would you get funding from a non-military source? You must know the vast budgets needed for Third Energy study."

"I couldn't tell you. Maybe you wouldn't even have to, if they were convinced of its uselessness as a weapon," he remarked, seriously considering the idea.

We got no further. A loud bang reverberated through the room as the large doors opposite the elevator opened. I threw myself against the far wall while Mike dove for cover behind the reception counter and Gail slammed his elbow into his captor's groin, grabbing his weapon and hurling it across the room when he tried to pull it back. I saw Regina enter through the doors and took immediate control over things; she must have been warned by Gail. The same couldn't be said for Mike; Rick clearly hadn't told him about the communicator's distress feature. And then that rifle landed, sliding quite close to the corpse of that researcher not too far from me.

I'd had enough. The people in this room had been jerking me around for a long time, I looked at Regina from the corner of my eye. She was facing Mike, away from me, convincing him to drop his pistol. Gail and the soldier seemed to be pummeling each other. Rick was running for that fight, presumably to break it up. I saw an opportunity for escape through the cargo door on the right, but that barely even registered as an option.

I reached down and picked up the rifle, looked carefully at it and noted all the important details.

By the time I looked up, Regina had kicked Mike into the wall, causing him to grunt with pain and drop the gun, which she kicked right through the doors she came in through. The power balance certainly did a lot of shifting.

"Rick, what the fuck have you done?" she snapped, turning right at him before seeing me standing slightly behind her, softly smiling with the stolen rifle outstretched.

"How does it feel to have your autonomy stripped away? Not very pleasant, is it?" I quietly asked. Her still menacing shotgun was raised, but at Rick. If she turned, I was prepared to kill her. Interesting or not, she was too much of a threat.

"Now I think it's time that I corrected some incorrect assumptions. Despite your impressions of me, I am not a monster. I developed the Third Energy theory, complete with many possible uses, and curiously enough the only one the people _you _work for wanted are weapons. Of course you blame_ me_ for that, because it's easier to blame one person you don't like than an entire power structure that controls your every action."

I turned to Regina, glaring spitefully at her. "You pretend to have some kind of moral high ground because you're doing what you're _ordered_ to do. I'm tired of seeing you look at me like an inferior for doing exactly the same thing, pretending that there's any difference at all. You don't want to give my data to your government and you've been feebly pretending otherwise ever since you learned the unpleasant truth. At least those creatures," I accused, waving at Rick, Mike, and his comrade, "had the intellectual honesty to do something about their moral outrage."

"And you," I spat, turning to Gail. "You have to be the most cowardly of the whole lot of them. You hide your emotions, your thoughts, all under the veil of 'orders' as if that was anything other than pathetically forcing your responsibilities onto others."

It was a talent I had developed in lectures, capturing the attention of an audience and forcing a point through like a divine commandment. With any luck, they'd realize how stupid they were and save me some time.

"Didn't you ever consider that I don't want to give my data to your vile government, and I don't particularly want people like Clay using it for their petty power struggles? They don't understand it; they don't value it, and I'm tired of my real work suffering because of fools with delusions of grandeur and their love of weapons," I finished, rubbing my bloodshot eyes in irritation and glaring at the whole lot of them.

Regina seemed to lose motivation for whatever fury she was about to unleash on Rick. Gail's face was twisted into a rather telling display of anger, but Rick seemed to find some validation in it, losing that fearful expression he'd been wearing. Always nice to make an impression.

"If you were so anti-government, you did a pretty good job of hiding it all those years,' said the inquisitive voice of Mike. "After all, you sure seemed to go out of your way to help the military."

"You told me all you cared about was the science, about finishing your work? Well, you've finally got the upper hand. Maybe you are right, and we do use orders to justify immoral actions. But I don't see you offering a solution," snapped Regina, leaning against the back wall and running a hand through her hair.

I had two solutions that seemed appropriate for the current situation, neither of which was particularly ideal. Kill them all and leave undetected was always a possibility. But I also recalled what was suggested by those two women in the power room. Certainly it was possible, though not likely to stand against too much scrutiny. I also found the idea of gunning down a room full of people one that would be best saved as a last resort, despite its brutish simplicity.

"Perhaps we can all leave satisfied,' I mused.

"If I make two copies of the data, one containing everything – everything – discovered about the Third Energy. And a second containing the same data with no reference to weapons development, we could continue work on the energy project and not the weapon while still keeping all the knowledge discovered here safe," I proposed.

"And what would happen to those copies?" asked a doubtful looking Regina.

"Well, that depends. The full copy would go with me. The modified data would be presented to whoever will be financing my work next. I still intend to receive full recognition for the Third Energy."

"You'd have to come with us anyway, you realize that?" snorted Gail. "There aren't many nations with that kind of funding to spare."

Feeling a flash of irritation, I had to admit he was right. Very few organizations could afford the immense budget demanded by my work, and only a nation in dire need of energy (or military power) had previously been willing to entertain the idea. Much of the work needed after tonight could be done on a low budget, but soon enough another generator would be needed to trial the results.

Going back was a risk. My relations with their government had never been warm, and they sent me away the first time. Considering that resulted in me coming here to their enemies, I couldn't see it happening again. Execution was the unspoken threat, and Gail knew it. He clearly didn't believe I'd expose myself to that risk willingly.

I shrugged, feigning indifference. I'd almost forgotten that I was holding them all under the barrel of a rifle. "Perhaps you're right. But it strikes me as the best option available, unless you'd prefer me gunning the whole lot of you down and going back to the Borginians."

"I don't buy it; you're taking way too much risk this way. Where's all that bullshit pragmatism you love so much?" said an obviously still cynical Regina, who'd dropped the shotgun to one side without a word.

"You think my problems with the republic started tonight? One day you'll learn not to speak about what you don't understand. If going back to them was as easy as you seem to think this conversation would've gone very differently, you can be sure."

That look of slight, only slight shock was rather interesting. I don't think she entirely believed me, but I had no reason to lie. The experiment might please the military people in one sense, but it caused a lot more problems than it solved and they were already anxious for results. If I did go back, things could go sour very, very quickly. Clay was my primary benefactor, and his recent gory execution would cause all kinds of problems.

At that moment I felt the slightest hint of a shudder throughout the room. I'd have put it down to nerves if the rest of them didn't look to have felt it. Nothing followed, and it was clearly time to make things clear for the fools.

"If this is going to work, several things will need doing. First of all, I'll need the disc," I said, gesturing at Regina with the stolen gun. She glared and seemed to tense up, but ultimately complied and put it on the reception counter. So far so good, I thought appreciatively. The threat of violent death was quite the motivator, it would seem.

I pocketed the disc and turned back to them. "As I see it, we're all after more or less the same thing," I said, rather sardonically. Gail snorted, but I didn't care about him. The rest didn't bother to respond, just as I preferred.

"The original copies of the data on this disc are mostly on floor B2 in my laboratory and in the Stabilizer design area. Sadly, however, much of it is also on floor B1 in the library and my simulation laboratory. The weapons design data is kept in the room you left Clay's corpse in, and that'll need destroying unless you want the Borginians to find it."

Up until then Mike had been sitting quietly with Rick, who still seemed unsure of himself. All this time he'd had that rifle held tightly, but he showed no signs of using it.

"I say we just modify your disc there. Going all the way to B1 is going to going to get someone killed and you know it, Kirk," he said, quite harshly. He would be a problem no matter how I handled this, I was quite sure.

"Not unless you've got a week available before we hand it in. Do you know how deeply intertwined the weapons development data is with the rest? The whole point is to hide the military data," I snapped. Shooting the idiot was such an appealing option, but I saw some use for him in the immediate future and restrained myself. It'd all turn into a frenzy the second anyone got shot, I knew.

Suddenly Rick spoke, revealing he hadn't been entirely mentally broken by guilt and shame. "This is going to be suicide. I don't know if you realise this, but both those floors are crawling with dinosaurs, and _way_ more than before. We nearly got killed on the way here, and that security console showed more than that."

Could he be lying, I wondered? Or did their activation attempt draw in more of the beasts just as mine had?

Mike looked firmly at me. "That's not all. When we captured Clay we left behind some of his men. They'd been coming back from outside the facility, but they could easily still be up there. I don't think they'd be too happy to see any of us."

I sighed audibly. "You people are soldiers, right? So how about you _deal with it_ in the appropriate fashion."

It all seemed rather simple, I thought. "Send your puppet to destroy the B3 weapons data," I said. "I'll go to B2 and get the data from the labs."

"I'll go to B1 then. Something I wanted to see there anyway," muttered Mike. He snatched up Gail's dropped rifle and slipped into the elevator before anyone could protest, nodding at his friend on the way out.

"One of us is going to have to go get that researcher from upstairs. I left her by the elevator," muttered Regina, running a gloved hand through her hair in exasperation.

"You," I said, pointing at Regina, "can take my subordinate to the port." Not for the first time, I received an unreadable expression in response. Who could say what she was thinking?

"I'm not letting you out of my sight again, Kirk," groaned a clearly pained Gail. "Rick can prepare the escape craft; even that's a lot to ask after the stunt he pulled. This entire plan is absurd, but I'm going to make sure you come back with us without any 'incidents'."

"Of course you will. Now stop wasting time and move before we all get killed." Finished, I took one of their level A. cards and left without another word through the doors Regina had ambushed us through with Gail feebly following, the sound of his heavy boots echoing off the large corridor's metallic walls. That had to be enough of a spectacle to keep the fools busy, I thought, smirking to myself as we ascended to floor B2 by way of the main staircase. Now I knew where they all were, and where they would be going, information that could be put to all sorts of uses, and finally they were all doing what I wanted them to do. That always made things so much simpler.


	10. Chapter 10

The trip to the laboratory was much more difficult the second time despite my enormous new weapon. Several dinosaurs blocked the way, giving me a chance to try its firepower. Even so, it was a lot of danger for such a small journey. Gail had picked up Mike's pistol on the way out, and so far we'd managed to silently co-operate. He was a much better shot than me, and had broken the silence specifically to point that out with a sneer.

Our first stop was the generator. Regina had already taken Cynthia down to B3, but she'd also taken the devices. Smart of her to have insurance, I thought. I entered my lab and sat at the main terminal, downloading both sets of experiment results to another disc. Having their activation data would definitely help things along, though it looked like a significant amount of Third Energy was still present. That was a volatile situation, and my instinct was to leave the island quickly. Three trials were hardly enough to predict what it might do next. I pocketed the disc and promptly left, with Gail following predictably.

We passed the blood stains on the door leading to the main hall, opening it to reveal the large, brightly lit hall, complete with a trail of blood leading from a dinosaur's corpse on the left to the researcher rooms on the right. That had been a rushed trip, right after my first attempt to retrieve this data. Gail's face showed he hadn't forgotten that I shot him in the shoulder near here.

I started to move to the left, but felt myself held back. "Hold it. Something's not right here," muttered Gail. I deferred to his experience and watched as he slowly crept towards the corner. I strained to hear and found I agreed with him, though it was hard to say why.

He moved towards the laser shutters, deactivating them and slipping through the same doors I ran away from earlier. I was following, but at a slight distance. I heard gunfire and saw Gail back out of the door taking another shot at something. He threw himself to the side of the door, shouting "Finish it!" at me as they started to slide open. I crouched down and fired a burst through, expecting another of the curiously coloured raptors to come charging out at any moment. No such thing happened, and Gail rose to his feet and peered inside.

But as we entered, I realised I'd shot a Borginian soldier, a man I easily recognised as one of the guards for the senior officers. He was lying on the ground, blood gurgling from his throat with bullet holes scattered throughout his chest. One hand was cupped over his abdomen and he seemed to be trying to speak through a mouth full of blood. As I entered his eyes widened with shock and Gail sat against the wall, breathing heavily and holding his upper arm, which had a knife embedded in it.

The soldier was rather confused, I was sure, but it was too late for him. I raised the rifle and shot him in much the same fashion as Gail had shot Mike's soldier, turning back as he tore the knife from his arm and threw it across the floor with a groan. It was nothing more than merciful.

For a moment I watched him. The man was as much of an enemy as I'd ever had, and he was quite injured. He wrapped some cloth around the wound, but both it and the shoulder were bleeding.

"Aren't you here for a reason? Get to it," he snapped, sitting on the large display table in the centre of the room and rubbing his eyes in clear exhaustion.

He wasn't wrong. I entered the highly secure room at the back of the area and found it had been absolutely ripped to pieces. Someone had been looking for something and they might not have found it, but they'd certainly trashed the room. I downloaded the data, which contained most of the information on the generator's design and various other things, before leaving to find Gail deep in discussion over the communicator.

"… No, not yet," he said, before waiting for a response. "Yeah, military uniform, standard issue pistol and knife."

I listened carefully, walking over to the corpse and looking carefully at it. What could a soldier want in here? I looked back at Gail, who was now pacing restlessly and arguing with his back to me. Surprising amount of trust, I thought, or perhaps he was more affected by fatigue and injury than I knew. The soldier hadn't taken anything, but I looked at the discarded knife, a very sharp, rather lengthy and serrated thing, before wiping the blood on his shirt and pocketing it.

"He destroyed it? I'll get back to you on that. Keep an eye on Rick. You've done well tonight, Regina," he finished, cutting off the call and looking at me. "Got what you came for?"

I nodded, turning for the door and stepping over the Borginian soldier's corpse.

"What you told them back there was well said. They're idealists, even Regina and that man you so despise. They _wanted_ to believe it," he said, as I suspected he might. I looked at the older man, face showing its age in the bright light, but didn't reply.

"All these people, all wanting different outcomes. It could only end in blood. Your way makes everyone happy, gives everyone just what they want. But it's founded on fantasy and we both know it." He was standing by the table, quite calm, pistol holstered and arms crossed.

I looked right into his eyes from across the room, the glare of the light immediately irritating. "Yes, it is founded on fantasy," I replied softly.

"Even if it all worked as you said it would, the government would never believe you. They knew perfectly well what you were doing here and you know what they'd do if you tried to hide it."

"I imagine torture to start, ending in execution and the data which they inevitably extract being given to their own researchers."

"If you came back with the full data and cooperated, they'd likely put you in charge of the project, weapon or not. Do it that way and they'll do exactly as you said. Regina doesn't want to see it, but you know better." He took a step towards me, slow but deliberate.

"Unfortunately, I don't think either option is viable anymore," I sighed, straightening my coat.

"Then why didn't you gun us all down when you had the chance?"

"Returning to the Borginians isn't so different from going with you. Killing you all on the spot would eliminate the possibility entirely, and I wasn't ready to do that," I answered, though it seemed half-hearted even at the time.

He'd closed the distance between us. "Then you're lost. Going alone is never going to achieve your goals. Returning with us is the only logical decision. Don't pretend there's another way this can end.' He looked into my eyes, clearly still in considerable pain. I realised the man was more similar to me than I'd imagined, but what he wanted was impossible, and so was explaining why.

Quietly we stood there, the blood of the soldier spreading in a pool to the side in an utterly silent room. Gail used the moment with characteristically ruthless efficiency, grabbing the rifle as it hung by my side and attempting to wrest it away. I almost lost my grip in the shock, but barely held on. His strength was almost overpowering despite the injuries. I pushed him back into the wall, cold steel smashing into his heavily wounded shoulder and eliciting a hiss of pain from the man.

He pushed forward and I fell back, the rifle falling to the floor where he kicked it aside. His face was coolly focused with steely resolve, and he used the space between us to reach for the pistol before I jumped on him and knocked us both to the floor. My skull filled with incredible, blinding pain as he slammed his forehead into mine. I tried to use my legs to reposition but slipped in the copious amounts of blood soaking the floor. A heavy fist landed in my abdomen and I barely felt the urge to vomit through my gasps for air. He closed what little distance remained while I feebly reached for the rifle, not even knowing if it was on that side.

He seized the grasping arm and almost managed to keep me pinned before I pushed my knee into his stomach. He still gained the advantage, but I'd never intended to pick up the rifle. My other hand had seized the bloodstained knife concealed in my coat pocket, and I buried it in his abdomen with a shout just as his arm pinned mine to the floor with a crack.

I saw the surprise in his eyes, and then the pain. His grip loosened and he fell back, rolling off me with a deep groan of agony. I tried to get to my feet, but stumbled and fell against the wall. Looking down, I saw the knife deeply embedded to the hilt in his stomach surrounded by a spreading dark patch of blood.

My head pounded and my arm was slippery with blood, but I was lucid. Gail slowly raised himself up and leaned his head and back on the wall, one hand over the knife and the other loosely laying at his side. His breathing was labored and the blood was quickly spreading.

"You just killed both of us, Kirk," he grunted, a hint of a grimace forming. A trickle of blood dripped down his mouth and joined the dark mass on his vest.

I knelt down next to him. "Perhaps I did. But I couldn't go back to that place."

He stared at me, breathing heavily. "Seeing me like this, maybe now she'll figure it out," he gasped, before pulling the knife out and throwing it to the side.

All that strength and willpower seemed long gone, the crumpled dying man before me so different from the determined soldier I'd been evading for hours. I looked over at the knife, coated in dark blood, and at him, blood and gore dripping from that muscular body, and at my own hands. Such a small action, a small decision, and it had killed him. Anything he'd said or done or wanted – it all ended here. I watched silently as the blood spread down his stomach, soaking his clothes and gently dripping onto the metal floor.

He coughed, blood spraying on my filthy lab coat. "I don't know what you're going to do, but it looks like you're sure."

I hesitated. "I'm leaving alone. Regina has one of my lead researchers and more. I can't go back, but perhaps it wasn't all for nothing," I told him, quite softly. He stared for a moment, and then nodded, expression quite incomprehensible. "It was always for nothing," he muttered, looking at the ceiling and exhaling slowly.

Shortly after that, his eyes glazed over and his breathing slowed considerably. A signal appeared on the wrist communicator with a faint beep, but he was beyond noticing or caring. Reaching over him, I picked up the knife, looked cautiously at the man who'd caused me so much difficulty, and carefully eased it into his heart, holding him to the wall with my other hand. He shuddered for a moment, and then went still.

For a very long minute I sat there next to the two corpses, not thinking or moving. Gail had understood my position all too well, and in that he was unique. My hands were shaking slightly with the realization that I'd just killed the man. It hadn't been my intention, at least not precisely, but even with his wounds he'd gained the upper hand in our fight. The knife had been the only way out, and I wasn't sorry for having used it. I'd ensured he didn't suffer before dying, and that had to mean something to a man like him. But I thought of his allies and knew they'd see it quite differently. I'd never even intended to go through with the plan as they heard it for exactly the reasons Gail gave me. Trying to hide that data would only get me tortured and killed; there would be no lie that could hide the truth anymore.

I sighed and ran a hand through my now filthy hair, only then realizing that hand was coated in blood and so was a great deal of my clothing. Mine, his, the soldiers'… what did it matter? I got to my feet and tried to hold the rifle, but a sharp pain in the arm Gail had smashed prevented it. I was tired, encrusted in blood, injured, I'd likely ruined what little chance I had with both governments to work with them, and I'd killed no less than three people in one night and had nothing but enemies left on the island. But I felt invigorated; in that painful, messy, but still energetic sense, I was feeling good.

The communicator beeped again, and I cut it off his wrist and nearly smashed it under my foot before reconsidering and pocketing it, ensuring that there was no passive tracking feature before doing so. How long could I have before they realised what must have happened? Mike was on B1, Regina on B3. Their respective allies also likely on B3, unless they had plans I wasn't privy to. I needed the devices and I needed the underground heliport. The rest was their problem.

Taking a final look at the gruesome scene before me, both men laying still and covered in gore, I left the experiment room for the last time, the weight of the data disc curiously heavy in my now injured left hand.

I saw my reflection in the thick glass security screen on the way out, and had to stop and stare at the change. I looked a complete mess, blonde hair stained with filth and dried blood, clothes coated in grime and freshly spilled blood, a dark patch of torn flesh and cloth at the back of my thigh and a cold expression on my tired face. How had it all deteriorated so quickly? Not a day ago I was the master of this pristine facility preparing for an experiment that could alter human history, and now I was… well, perhaps not so very different.

I walked down that miserable corridor aimlessly, realising my choices had taken me down a path that could lead to many places, a great deal of which were antagonistic. I needed to find the devices or all I'd have would be data, and they were almost certainly at the port. When I showed up alone and covered in blood, they'd all assume I'd murdered Gail… an unfair assumption despite its basis in truth. I'd been prone to overestimating my abilities, but I was a poor shot, injured, and untrained. Gail had been shot and stabbed and he still would've had me subdued if I hadn't thrust that knife into his guts. If Regina found me, found_ him_, it would all be over very quickly.

As I entered the researcher rest area and opened the escape hatch for the second time, slowly entering the same password I'd previously discovered, I considered my next move carefully. Emerging into the transport tunnels, I looked at the stainless walls with a slight smile. My escape to this place was what started the whole mess that I'd just escaped from, and here I was again.

To the best of my knowledge, Rick, Regina, Cynthia, and Mike's loyal soldier were all on this floor. He himself was on B1, if he was to be believed (and he likely wasn't). My chances of getting the devices and escaping were almost zero unless B3 emptied out a bit, and that would take some work. I sat there against a wall, musing over various options. This kind of intellectual work was what I was best at, and I enjoyed it far more than all the physical pain I'd endured over the last night.

I considered using the stored Third Energy to create some sort of emergency, forcing them to go back to the control room to try and fix it. Not a bad plan, if they could be trusted to solve the problem.

Simply waiting was another option. Soon enough they'd come looking and then they'd find Gail's corpse and my absence. By then I could have taken the devices and dealt with Rick, who they'd confined to the port.

The silence of the transport passage wasn't particularly reassuring. Grimacing, I got to my feet and intended to hide for long enough to let them start searching.

But then I realised how foolish I was. I'd taken Gail's wrist communicator, and that opened up my options considerably. Only then did I see how it could be done, and I left the passage with an assured smirk on my weary face.


	11. Chapter 11

The cavernous cargo storage room that serviced the large size elevator on the first underground floor of the facility had always been a filthy, dusty place. Just getting here had taken quite a bit of stealth and caution, both to avoid many of the newly appeared dinosaurs infesting the floor and to ensure I didn't run into anyone who expected me to be in the Stabiliser labs with Gail. The long journey from the B3 transport tunnels to the large size elevator was one of the most unnerving I'd ever taken, but I'd finally reached this ugly place unmolested.

The stolen communicator I'd torn from Gail's corpse had beeped once or twice, and I suspected they'd be looking for us very soon. His death certainly did make it much more urgent for me to get this right. The first time it attracted a raptor's attention, but I managed to shoot it in the eye(unintentionally, though I won't dwell on that) before it caused much harm. I'd taken Gail's pistol, the one Regina took from Mike and kicked down a hallway.

I looked around, seeing the emergency hatch still open from its last use so many hours ago and the entire area seemingly untouched otherwise. My intention had always been to use the hatch, particularly because I didn't think I could survive another trip through the labs. Not for the first time tonight my concealed laboratory contained a prize I just had to have, I was sure.

Descending the small ladder into the cramped tunnel, I walked toward the exit at a leisurely pace. There was no need to hurry for this.

I realised shortly after the dinosaurs had torn my staff to pieces the lengths to which a man will go to for survival. Even when you don't understand _why_ you want to survive, that urge is one of the most powerful driving forces. It'd kept me going despite fatigue and uncertainty and injury, and I knew I could rely on it for some time yet.

Reaching the end, I carefully raised the hatch, peering into the dimly lit laboratory only to hear the sound of my vortex simulator at full power. That really did make things easier for me.

I exited the hatch, silently shutting it behind me and taking a quiet step forwards. As expected, I saw Mike's gaunt body facing the simulation, his hand on the Stabilizer controls and Gail's stolen rifle laying on my workbench to his left. He'd been quite the problem for me, and he'd only had the courtesy to show himself to me tonight of all nights. The people he'd led hadn't known who or _what_ he was any more than I had, surely. Perhaps he didn't know either. I saw how he thought of himself. Relaxed, calm, friendly… all to say he wanted to think he'd left his past behind, that he wasn't stained by his many sins. Whatever I might be, a self-deluded fool wasn't it.

I calmly walked about behind him and observed the simulation. "You'd have more success with a less powerful Initializer," I softly remarked.

He jumped up in shock, grabbing the rifle and looking at me with a hint of fear staining his features. "For fuck's sake, don't do that when I'm expecting dinosaurs to burst in here and fuck me over," he grumbled, but he also put the rifle down.

"Less power to start, you say?" he asked, before pulling the appropriate lever to half strength. The vortex strengthened and stabilized, losing its unpredictable qualities as I knew it would.

"Hey, you really do know your stuff, Kirk."

"One of the many benefits of having developed all this technology," I calmly replied, turning a switch on the wall and cutting the vortexes' width in half. That got a smile from him, at least. For a man who'd wanted to kill me such a short time ago, he was rather calm about this.

Mike looked over his shoulder at me, eyebrows rising in surprise. "Jesus, Kirk, what the fuck happened to you? That's a lot more blood than I remember. And where's that muscleman you left with?" he slowly asked, beginning to suspect unsavory deeds on my part.

"You were right when you said there were soldiers still alive. We ran into one in the labs, and he caused quite a mess."

"You're saying this soldier killed that agent?"

"No, but he stabbed the agent in the arm with a rather nasty knife, and lost much of his own blood when I killed him."

That calmed him down. I could see he was tired, and just looking for a positive end to this misery. That, at least, was something I could sympathise with.

He turned around and sat on the simulator, the vortex going through his right arm. "I ran into one of them too, but he recognised me." He waved vaguely towards the door. "Body's out somewhere near the elevator, but I think the dinosaurs got to it."

For a moment we sat there silently, staring at each other thoughtfully. We'd been the antagonists in each other's lives for years and had never even spoken before tonight. To look at us, a pair of very tired, unsure looking men, it wouldn't seem quite so dramatic.

"So, did you get the data?" I asked, suddenly finding myself uncomfortable in his presence.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, everything in the library and here. Not as easy as it might sound, I'll tell you that much," he replied, rubbing the back of his head.

I showed him the discs from the floor below. "These three contain the sum of our work without the weapons development information. Just as you so desperately wanted."

He stared cautiously at the discs, nodding. "How far along did the weapon get, anyway?"

"It was still in the conceptual stage, but it was a very practical concept. By the end they were diverting my research almost exclusively to focus on getting it ready for some sort of defensive procedures, though I was never told why," I said, thinking back to countless late night meetings.

"Is it really inevitable that this weapon is made?"

That question didn't really have an answer. "It depends on the explosive overload phenomena, which depends on a primitive Stabilizer. Fix the Stabilizer, and perhaps it can be avoided. We saw that tonight, to an extent. In reality, it'll be discovered eventually, if only because people will be looking for it." That was the most accurate answer I could give.

Whatever might have happened between us next was irrevocably changed by the beeping of Gail's communicator in my pocket. Two for contact, I presumed. Time would be up very shortly. I pulled it out and put it on the table gently.

"Not going to answer it? We used to use those in the military, I recall," murmured Mike as he watched it.

"It's not mine to answer."

We watched each other carefully, the communicator beeping furiously for a moment and then falling silent. The faint hum of simulation machinery was the only thing left to break the silence.

He nodded at the rifle on the table next to him. "That agent's not going to come back for this, is he?" he asked, quite quietly.

I shook my head, leaning slightly on the wall to the left. "No, I'm afraid he's not."

"So the soldier got him with more than a knife? Or did you kill him the same way you did Paul?"

"He insisted I return with him, handing over the full data set to the military as his orders suggested. We fought and he didn't survive the struggle."

"But we all agreed you didn't have to give it to them. We'd give them the stuff we just collected and play dumb, right? That way everyone gets what's best."

Suddenly feeling a sharp spike of anger, I slammed my fist into one of the many screens on the wall to the left and heard it crack, or perhaps that was my already injured arm. "Of all the people here you ought to see how this works. I go back and they torture me until I spill the real information, or I hand it over when they ask. I can't believe the rest of you were delusional enough, or stupid enough, to think otherwise. Did you ever for a moment think you could hide the people you killed and pretend otherwise?" I spat at him, tired of his naïve optimism, so very sickening from someone who should know better.

"It was your plan, not mine. I was going to kill you and take the data myself, bypassing your old bosses entirely," he replied, still calm as ever.

I laughed at that. Probably would've been the best thing for everyone, like he said. I had a reputation in some very unfriendly places now, especially after tonight.

"So what happens now? You wouldn't have killed one of them if you didn't have a plan."

"You've never guess, but it was a very animalistic killing. Rolling around beating each other until I realised he'd force me to go back to that place and I stuck a knife into his stomach just to get back some autonomy. After that it was merciful not to let him die from internal bleeding."

He grimaced, looking at me in a rather different light. The dull orange lighting and thick coating of blood and grime on my body gave out a deranged impression, I was sure.

"So, I'd guess your only option is the republic. You can spin this whole event your way and get back to work."

"No, I'm not sure they'd be so welcoming after tonight, and I'm tired of them and their ridiculous plans. I'll have to find other arrangements, which may take some time, but it'll be far better than either of those choices."

He opened his irritating mouth, but I cut him off. "No, they won't be getting the weapons data. I've spent too long neglecting my real work in favour of that fantasy," I said, pausing for a moment. "And perhaps I don't find much appeal in a flawed version of my work being used to butcher millions for pointless, nationalistic causes.' And that was true enough. The overload was a _mistake_ and there was something shameful in an error being the focus of my work.

Mike rose to his feet, but promptly leaned on the table again. "You know, I've thought of you as a sociopath for years, Kirk, and looked forward to killing you for what you were doing. But only now, right after you come here covered in blood telling me you stabbed a guy in the guts do I start to think otherwise. Fuck."

He looked up at me. "They'll be looking for you by now. I take it you were going to use that heliport Clay told us about to get out of here? That's not going to be easy to pull off. "

Him knowing about that could cause issues, I knew. I picked up the communicator. "I need to get the devices if this plan will work. There won't be another opportunity to make more for a long time, I suspect. They'll be at the port, heavily guarded."

"That woman with the sexy ass and the shotgun is going to fuck you over if you go anywhere near there. I mean, look at you. That arm doesn't look right, and you're almost limping,' he pointed out, gesturing wildly.

I shook the communicator, grinning through strands of filthy blond hair. "You don't think she'll come running if I send a distress signal from her dear squad leader, even if it comes from the far reaches of the facility?"

His eyes widened in surprise. The only real question was how to buy myself the most time. It'd be best to send the signal _before_ she found the body, but there was no way to know when that was.

"Maybe you can pull it off, but it'd be tight. The port's a big place, and there's only one way in. You could easily meet up on the way out and that's the end of you."

"You're right. Nobody here could fight her off, I'm sure. Not even your missing friend who we can't contact."

He started pacing the room with clear anxiety. "So once you're on B3, then what?"

"I'll need a note from you to enlist the services of your friend, if I see him. You can understand why," I told him, quickly and calmly, as if I had a master plan prepared.

He nodded, pulling a page from my notebook and writing a short note before handing it to me. A cursory glance told me it would serve, telling the big man that I was helping them now, signed in Mike's hand which I presumed he recognized.

"Thank you," I said, pocketing the note. "Once I'm off this island that should be the last you hear of Third Energy being used as a weapon. I need you to stay here and make sure that stays true. One of my head researchers, Cynthia, barely survived, and is in their custody. She knows about the weapon, but I don't think she'll be hard to convince to stay quiet.

"Yeah, I'll smooth things over. Without that Gail guy, I don't think they'll push too hard anyway." He paused, making eye contact at last. "We'll make this work. It's all I ever wanted, really. All any of us wanted. Shame there had to be so much blood before we could work together."

He held out his hand to me and I paused for a slight second before taking it. We had our similarities, and I could at least respect him for having strength in his convictions. Besides, this would only work with his help, and being amicable made that much more likely.

"Okay, you'd better get going before they come looking. I'll wait a few minutes and use that distress signal," he said, glancing back at the door nervously. He walked over and looked closely at the communicator. "Yeah, I know how-"

I pulled out my pistol, _his_ pistol, and shot him in the leg. The look of betrayal on his face was something I'd expected, but I still didn't like it. A purely practical decision, of course.

He fell to the floor with a scream of agony, hand on the leg that was now spurting blood all over the pristine floor. "Kirk, you really are the biggest cunt I –' he started before leaving off to groan. I was fairly sure I could finish it in my head, though. The flow of blood was more than I expected, though that could only be a good thing.

I knelt down next to him. "This wasn't a betrayal. When she arrives, she'll have to choose between chasing me and saving you. You know I need that time to pull off the plan, and it makes you look like a victim," I explained, quietly and reassuringly as I could. It was important that he understood the necessity.

He opened his eyes, face crunched in pain, and looked right at me. "Yeah? You couldn't think of any other way to do it? What if she just leaves me to bleed out or get eaten?"

I grinned at him. "I know her views on morality and ethics. Even you aren't going to be left to die a miserable death. Either she'll do it or she'll send Rick; either way we both win, and she doesn't."

I patted him on the back, plucked the data disc from his pocket, and rose to my feet. "Try to remember, this really was the only thing that could be done. I'll see if I can contact you once this is all over."

That rather convincing series of arguments said, I activated the distress signal, ran over to the main terminal and set the escape hatch to lock in five minutes and left with far more haste than I'd arrived with. The bait was set to lure the most dangerous of them into a dangerous and time-consuming situation, I had all the data, and perhaps I had an uneasy alliance made with my long time enemy. It was time to finish things on this miserable island, and even the thought of an uncertain future didn't seem to be cause for concern anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

It came as something of a surprise, I had to admit, seeing the first hints of sunrise on the eastern horizon as the large size cargo elevator slowly came to a halt on the first floor of the facility. After leaving Mike in a pool of blood back in my laboratory I realised there was a very real chance that going back to the lowest level too hastily could result in a premature capture. So I reconsidered and went up, back to the desolate administration level, only to emerge into the clear and clean air of an early summer morning.

A strong breeze, already showing the signs of another warm day, was the first thing I noticed. After hours and hours, or perhaps years, spent running through underground tunnels like a rat, it was the most refreshing experience I could've hoped for. The sight and smell of thick smoke was my second observation, and I could see the source from beyond the hangar. The S.O.R.T helicopter was evidently still burning, and it was this that brought me back to the rather pressing business at hand.

I was quite sure that Mike would cooperate. If he didn't see why I'd had to shoot him he really was a fool, and it was the only way to make this work. He needed to be alive long enough to stall Regina, and hopefully to plague her the same way he did me. My left hand brushed over the set of data discs secured in the inner pocket of my tattered and blood encrusted lab coat. The only thing left was the Stabilizer. I sighed, left the reassuring warmth of the morning air and entered the control room behind the elevator's control terminal.

There was a rather ominous amount of dried blood near the terminals, but that was true of half the facility. I ignored it and set to work, activating the control panel and using my level A. clearance to access the B3 monitoring system. Now that the entire facility had been repowered, a great deal of communication could take place between the various levels, and I intended to exploit that.

Security footage showed no signs of activity on most of the floor, but I noted Mike's last soldier in the transport tunnels, seemingly headed for the port area. Looking over the elevator logs, I couldn't help but smile at the record showing its last usage only six minutes ago. That was all I needed. I ran back to the elevator as quickly as I could manage, a sharp pain in my leg proving quite the complication.

Something frighteningly large crashed in the distant forest, and suddenly the open air lost that warm sense of security I'd so enjoyed. As the elevator droned into motion and began the long descent to the lowest floor, I realised there would be no relief until this was finished, however it had to end.

The enormous metal door slowly opened with a groan, and I casually stepped into the massive area containing the facility's main generator. My steps echoed throughout the room, but I wasn't hiding from anyone on this floor. However we met, it could be resolved positively enough. As calm as I felt, I knew all too well that my actions had given both governments present tonight reason to call me an enemy. My entire life had been spent working under their careful watch, doing as ordered, convincing and arguing with them in vain for days on end. I was the man who discovered, designed, and built the most powerful and awe-inspiring energy development technology in human history. Playing the role of the good servant, licking their boots for favours only to be kicked in the teeth… it was nothing less than pathetic for such a person to be reduced to that.

Hands in my pockets, I approached the long corridor leading to the port. It ran parallel to the parts of the Third Energy generator that stored the created energy on one side and the port on the other, but was rather unimportant despite that. The doors opened, and I peered within only to hear something I'd so stupidly overlooked. I shut the doors and slammed my forehead into them in anger. Something very large and very, very dangerous was lurking in there, and the tight passage would never let me slip through. Going back the other way would waste a massive amount of time.

For a long, terrible moment I stood at those doors, paralysed with indecision. I looked at my pistol and burst into laughter; the useless thing wouldn't even scratch one of those beasts. And then I ran as fast as I could for the long alternative route, praying Mike could keep her occupied. I passed the generator, and the many cargo boxes, blood beginning to drip from my injured thigh, but I couldn't care about such a thing now.

And then I heard it. The echo of footsteps, and not mine alone anymore. Surely heavy combat boots; perhaps I really was too late. Refusing to be recaptured, I dropped behind a fuel canister and waited with the pistol ready. Once I heard the voice, the only thing I could feel was relief. A deep, cold, menacing male voice could only be one person, and I was well prepared.

I rose to my feet, a light smile appearing. He stared at me and raised his own pistol uneasily, obviously unsure of my intentions. I dropped my own to my side and stepped out from behind the canister.

"So, you're not dead," he stated, looking me over from head to toe.

"No, and we have work to do to ensure we both make it out of here alive,' I replied, shrugging and taking a step closer to him.

"Where's the soldier? They've been looking for you both, but he's not answering," he said, wiping his forehead and staring even more closely at me. "Judging by your clothes, I think I could take a pretty good guess. All that shit you said was just your way of getting away from us, wasn't it?"

"He and I both knew the plan was never actually going to work. The rest of you wanted it to, but you must have known."

"No shit. You would've gone a few nights without sleep food or water and spilled it all just for a drink," he mocked, smiling softly at me, though his eyes were as cold as they could be. "Our way was far more practical. Dead men don't spread secrets."

"No, they don't. But there's no need for hostility anymore,' I said, slowly pulling a folded piece of paper from my back pocket. "I've been rather busy since we last met, you see," I casually remarked, sliding the paper over to him.

He opened it, looking suspiciously at me, but definitely finding a surprise or two in its contents. "How did you…?"

"We worked things out on floor B1. I'll be leaving and not returning to either government, and he'll be making sure the weapons data stays a secret," I explained in a pleasant tone. "But we'll need your help…"

Within five minutes, I was back at the rest station. Such an efficient man, I thought as the port door opened. He'd lured the beast in the tunnel back into the generator room, giving me the opportunity to slip through undetected. He promised to hold off Regina if he could, which was an added bonus. I hadn't bothered to tell him about Mike's recent injury; there simply wasn't any need to trouble him with the details. If he made it back alive, I'd have some sort of support, and that was definitely a novel experience.

The small office at the front of the port was a very secure room. I'd never paid much attention to it during my work, but having someone sneak into the facility through the lowest level would've been terribly embarrassing, as they'd clearly thought when designing this place. I recalled it leading onto into an absolutely massive storage area complete with fuel tanks, giant cranes, and other things you wouldn't expect to see underground. The base was built on top of a cliff, and this underground port used a natural cave system to transport materials from the sea to the facility.

Entering the small tunnel built to let visitors to the facility enter through the port, I started moving at as fast a pace as I could manage without being excessively noisy. They'd almost certainly be at the hovercraft port at the back of the area, but Rick could easily be waiting to ambush me. Regina knew how much I needed those devices; my hope was that her concern for Gail would be enough to push that from her mind for the time. It was an unreliable hope, and I hated that just as much as I hated this game of cat and mouse I'd been forced to play.

Reaching the end, I cracked open the metallic door and peered into the enormous cargo transport area within. The dim lighting concealed many of the room's features, but I could faintly hear the sound of water breaking on the concrete edge of the port. Nobody could be seen on either side, but this tiny, noisy door was the only way in or out of the facility from here onward. My hand brushed over the pistol almost unconsciously, but I took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

Well, nobody jumped at me, nothing grabbed me, and nobody shot me. I exhaled, almost underwhelmed by the lack of activity. I stepped into the least lit part of the room and headed for the back, where the door to the hovercraft could be found. As I walked, I realised I didn't know what to expect from Rick. Even if he was alone, what he might say or do was beyond my ability to guess. Gail had been an obvious enemy, Mike the same. Regina was dangerous and ultimately unpredictable, but I knew enough about her to guess her responses.

I turned a corner and there it was. A small, rusty little door, hardly even noticeable if you didn't know what was beyond it. I shot a quick glance behind me, as if expecting the whole lot of them to burst out and mock me for being so predictable, but I shook that thought away and carefully opened the door, pistol held at my side.

The first thing I saw was the murky ocean water flowing in from the cave system. A grimy looking hovercraft floated there, and a man was bent over it with the air of someone deep in concentration. That was curious, I thought. Perhaps the hovercraft was broken like so many things in this facility were. Carefully and quietly I closed the door behind me, what little noise there was concealed by the water crashing into the dock. I saw Cynthia's prone body on a bench to Rick's right, though it was too dimly lit to see more.

From my position on the balcony I had a clear shot at Rick, who seemed to be swearing at the hovercraft in irritation, and it was a very tempting proposition. I'd killed one of them; how much more of a problem could another be? But from such an advantageous position there was no real need. His rifle had been casually thrown onto the top of the hovercraft, but I saw a case on the front seat that must have been used to hold the devices. I steadied myself on the railing and aimed at him, almost sure to kill him at this distance from that angle.

But as my finger hovered over the trigger, I hesitated. I wasn't the sentimental type, and it was a choice with a clear reward and only a potential risk, but in the rest station he'd been the only one stopping Mike from blowing my brains out onto those hideous walls when they had the upper hand. His decision to be merciful (ethical, had he put it?) had put me here, a slight movement away from rewarding that choice with a violent death.

Well, I could always kill him after, I considered. The gun fell to my side and I took a step closer to the stairs, not bothering with stealth.

"Regina, you back already?" he called out, hands stuck in some component in the hovercraft's side.

I ignored that, coming down the stairs and jerking my coat back into place. He threw an uninterested glance to his left, and jumped back upon seeing me standing there watching.

"Kirk? What are you doing here? Where's Regina… and Gail?" he spluttered, looking rather confused. His left hand was covered in some sort of grease, I noticed. Perhaps there was an issue with their escape craft.

I waved vaguely at the ceiling. "Busy up there, I imagine."

"Gail sent a distress signal from two floors up, we thought you were up there with him," he murmured, looking vaguely at the wall and thinking.

He snapped out of it and looked at me, eyes taking in my rather shocking appearance. I had to speed things up, and he was proving too naïve for my liking.

"I'll need those devices," I said, pointing at the case with my injured hand. I could see Cynthia watching from the far end of the room, obviously having received a great deal of medical attention, though not rising from the bench.

"They stay here," he told me, refusing with a firm shake of his head. "And I want to know where Gail was when you left him. What about the plan?" He was getting agitated now.

Despite the question, he continued to ramble. "Regina called in right before you got here." He stopped and ran a hand through his short hair. "She said she found Mike in your lab with Gail's transmitter. He's been shot, but Gail's not even there."

Quietly but firmly, I responded. "I'm afraid that request really wasn't optional." The pistol was now clearly aimed at his chest. A light on his communicator flashed, but he didn't answer.

He looked at the rifle, but to reach it he'd need far more than the half a second I'd give him and he knew it.

"So whose blood is that on your coat?" he whispered, voice cracking slightly. I'm sure he'd guessed. "And what about that plan of yours? Was that all a lie so you could just… just kill us all and leave?"

"The plan wouldn't have worked. But I wouldn't worry too much, because the outcome is remarkably similar either way. Nobody gets the weapons development data, and that's what you wanted. Now, slide that case over."

To his credit, he did just that, but I could see that he knew what I'd done and hated me for it. I knelt down and picked up the case in my left hand, flinching slightly from the pain, and got to my feet with a long sigh. It was finally done.

"Now I have a few more requests,' I whispered, opening the case and seeing the prized devices within.

The door crashed open and those requests were destined to wait. I almost looked up, but turned back and held Rick under my aim to ensure he didn't use the distraction to make me miserable, and that the intruder would think carefully about their next move if they happened to have red hair and a shotgun.

"Kirk, we need to move, I haven't heard from Mike and the port terminal showed activity in the cargo elevator,' shouted my new ally as he ran down the stairs and skidded to a stop behind me.

"You're with Kirk now?" Rick spluttered, eyes bulging in disbelief.

"He wants what we want and you don't. Simple as that." He stepped forward and looked down at me. "Where's Mike?"

Ah, such a difficult question. I'd hoped to have left by now, but the additional manpower made that a slightly less urgent matter, if only I could keep him on my side.

"I left him on floor B1, and that's she was last headed." I waved dismissively at Rick. "He tells me Mike's been shot, you know. I imagine she'll be coming back for us, so we need to leave while there's still time. No telling what could happen otherwise."

I felt a strong hand push me to the side as he stormed past, one of the last of us without an injury and heavily trained and muscled to begin with. Rick took a step back, reaching for the rifle and pulling it towards him. I hadn't been expecting such a sudden reaction to my veiled implication.

"Do you even know what you're doing? I was in your position once. I did what the two of you are doing now, and I've had to live with that," I heard him say to Rick as he advanced, the two soldiers holding each other at gunpoint. "Taking him back to them isn't an option anymore."

"I know Regina; she wouldn't have shot anyone if she had a choice, he might not even be dead" he called back as he took another step back, nearly at the wall already.

"Maybe not. But because of the two of you my closest friend's been shot, and I'm not the type to forgive that. Rick hit the back wall, looked briefly at a surprisingly alert Cynthia on the bench to his left and to the dead end on his right before sighing in resignation.

I saw it coming before they did and threw myself to the floor in time to hear the guns fire and a woman scream. It was a brief fight. Dust fell from the ceiling and covered the room; it looks as if it'd taken some damage, odd as it was.

I peered over and saw the soldier standing with the pistol at his side and a weary slouch to his shoulders. Rick was laying against the wall unmoving, the rifle laying at his side. I looked at Cynthia, who'd been sprayed with blood, and rose to my feet.

"It had to be done, even if he didn't deserve it," muttered the man in front of me. He glanced at Cynthia apologetically, then over his shoulder at me.

The room reverberated with a loud bang, and his tired look turned to one of shock and pain before he crumpled and fell to the floor, his dark green uniform stained with blood.

I lowered the pistol, finding myself barely able to stand. What he'd said was perfectly true, it had to be done, even if he didn't deserve it. He'd killed Rick because of my manipulation, even if it hadn't been my intention, and I knew whatever advantage he'd have given me against Regina would quickly change when she revealed the truth. As amoral as I'd been my entire life, shooting an ally in the back was undeniably obscene.

Both men lay in pools of blood, eerily similar to the confrontation in the laboratory such a short time ago. Rick was sprawled against the wall, head down and unmoving and the light on his communicator still shining brightly. His killer, a man whose name I'd never even bothered to learn, had fallen onto his chest and died shortly after, his arm dangling over the dock's edge into the dark water, life's blood dripping over the edge into the ocean.

I picked the case back up, the protective cover for two devices that had caused far more difficulty than I'd ever envisioned while designing them, and turned to leave with a short glance into the water revealing a harsh face wearing a distant, weary stare.

"You had us all fooled, didn't you?" a quiet voice accused from the corner.

I'd entirely forgotten about her. The adjustment to a world of violence and death had happened quickly, and she'd survived unusually long. Turning back slightly, I saw she'd been sprayed with blood, presumably Rick's, and was sitting against the cold concrete wall and glaring at me almost defiantly.

"He saved me, you know," she quietly said, brushing Rick's forehead with her working hand. "After you stopped the bleeding and vanished, he found me and spent so long patching me up that I fell asleep. He didn't deserve to die here."

"No, he didn't. But we rarely get what we deserve."

"And what about him?" she whispered, pointing at the fallen soldier's corpse. "Wasn't he your friend? He protected you, and you killed him."

"It had to be done. I… I can't tell you why, but there was no other choice." I tried to sound apologetic. I even felt it, in a way. But I knew no such emotion could be heard in my voice.

She snorted in derision. "I bet you shot his friend, not Rick. I knew that guy he mentioned. Those two were always together, had a lot of history. Mike was dangerous, and he hated you. If I were you, I'd have dealt with him and had that scary guy blow away these soldiers by blaming it on them."

"Close, but not quite right. I did shoot Mike, but not fatally. We worked out a plan, in which you and he return to the military and stress the importance of the Third Energy while denying any knowledge of a weapons project. I'll take the full data set and the devices and leave alone."

"Who says they'll believe us? I knew they were making a weapon, if nothing else. That doesn't mean they'll trust me. How long until they cut a finger off or hand me over to the guards or whatever else suspicious, desperate militaries do to foreign captives?"

I waved her off. "You've nothing to share, and they clearly wanted me and nobody else. You're just not as valuable a source to them."

"I don't see why you don't just shoot me," she muttered after I turned to leave once again.

"Not doing so brought us here. There'd be nothing gained by doing so now." I looked more carefully at the hovercraft, a rather obvious idea coming to me. "Does that thing work?"

"He said it needed fuel and some kind of repairs, but I don't think he'll be doing them,' she said, looking again at Rick's corpse with a slight flinch.

Well, it would've been a nice end to a miserable meeting, but the mental image of being shot while pouring fuel into a hovercraft just didn't have much appeal. Shrugging, I took the devices and the first step on the staircase.

"I still get it, Kirk. What I said in the generator room, I mean. Even if you don't see it." she called out, once again sounding weak.

Quickly reaching the top of the stairs, I looked down on the dreadful scene before me and left the room, the rusty door grinding shut behind me. I took a deep breath, looked around the tranquil port, and started the long walk to my final destination. What she'd called out to me as I left, both then and in the generator control room… she may have understood, but I was utterly alone despite that. Walking in that abandoned place, I muttered "I appreciate the sentiment, but I doubt we'll meet again," to myself, the words that hadn't come when they were called for.

Whatever she did or said now, it wasn't my concern. Such a short time had passed since the experiment, but I felt a different man entirely. Exposure to that much death changed a person, surely. Maybe it wasn't so short after all; my sense of time often faded away down in the depths of the facility. It was entirely possible that I'd run into Regina at any moment, at which time we could gun each other down and be done with it. Or perhaps I'd make it to the heliport and escape unscathed, at which time I'd have a whole world of possibilities and nowhere to go. The pistol was heavy in my hand, and had been growing more so as the night went on. I recalled the warm sunrise, but it was almost certainly still night for me.

Reaching the end of the port with a sigh, I opened the small metal door and took my first step back into the facility. If a small choice was enough to radically change a life, well, I expected a sizeable payment to result from tonight's actions.


	13. Chapter 13

As a young man I'd been so utterly focused on the possibilities at hand that any thought of introspection seemed entirely pointless. It had all been so simple, so very easy. My progression through the education system happened so rapidly that it ultimately became a hindrance, my own personal studies far overtaking anything offered to me and the intricacies of bureaucracy preventing me from accessing more fitting resources and teachers.

By the time I'd finally finished with my studies, already a respected prodigy, the very first hints of the Third Energy theory were forming in my mind, and within a few years they were developed into an idea that had real, plausible applications. The ease with which I completed this work and the obvious mountain of potential left were my only concerns, and I developed the fundamental belief that the science itself was the most important, if not the only important, thing humanity could focus itself on. Anything else paled in comparison, becoming nothing more than a trivial obstacle, to the work done by people like me. How could anything in good conscience be allowed to slow that progress? After the first failure and the destruction that followed that philosophy had been my driving force,

Despite my irritable, asocial nature, I'd been something of an optimist in my own way. Even if absolutely nothing mattered outside scientific advancement, there was more to be done there than a hundred of me could manage in a lifetime. The concerns of the people around me faded into the background like so much noise, but I did appreciate their contributions for what they were.

Of course, I soon suffered for that naiveté. The Third Energy progressed quickly, so quickly that I realised an enormous amount of resources would be needed to design and build a generator capable of testing the theory. I imagined multitudes of people lining up for the privilege of being the ones to finance the system that would solve the problem of finite energy, but was quickly mired in a tangled web of secrecy, conspiracy, and politics as various factions debated over my work and how it should be _allowed_ to proceed.

Still, I'd adjusted quickly to the harsh new world before me. And yet within two years I found myself at the master controls of the small test generator we'd designed purposely overloading the system to destroy the laboratory and fake my own death, so much for my lofty ambitions. The technology had been promising, but economic pressure from the country's many existing power sources had destined my work to be buried until it could be most profitably revealed. A general offered to let me continue with a small budget if I believed the Third Energy could be used for destruction, but I declined, accepting an offer from their largest rival, the Borginian republic, to fake my death and continue the work for them.

What little optimism I'd been fostering had been crushed by the weight of these events, but I continued the work diligently, appreciative for the opportunity to continue my original efforts with a more understanding benefactor. Life on Ibis Island had been stressful but rewarding, but after the failure of the first experiment the potential for weapons development was too obvious to ignore. The work continued, but I still buried the urge for introspection behind my ever increasing obligations.

And it had inevitably brought me back here to the main terminal of the Third Energy generator, the symbol of my entire life's work and dreams. My clean, cold, measured appearance and personality, everything sacrificed and hidden for the sake of scientific advancement, had given way to a man tired and run down in appearance and mind, clothes ruined and stained with gore, face fixed with a distant stare and curtained by filthy, matted blonde hair. I stood in that miserably gloomy room, illuminated only by the glare of the terminal and the low red light shining from the ceiling, hand resting light on the controls.

Three years had passed, and I'd been forced back to the exact same position. Of course, it hadn't _really_ been inevitable. If I'd simply surrendered and allowed them to carry me back to that place like a badly behaved child, or if I'd slaughtered the lot of them and crawled back to the Borginians, there would have been no need. I sighed and pulled a lever on the side of the terminal. If this was the path I'd chosen, there was little choice but to follow it all the way.

I'd realised some time ago that scientific advancement alone was not an answer to the question of 'Why bother?" Advancement in the service of what, I'd tried to ask, finding only curiosity as an answer that justified the ideology. Was it progress for the benefit of humanity? Despite the potential, all I'd ever achieved was death and misery, culminating with four deaths at my hand this night alone, and countless more caused by my discoveries. Was it truly my fault, I'd wondered more than once since the experiment's conclusion. The answer had never come.

The generator began to shake lightly, a series of indicators turning red on the panel to the right. The image of the port had been burned into my eyes and reappeared at the slightest opportunity. Rick's corpse against the wall, killed for a crime that I'd committed. Cynthia closing his unseeing eyes as I stormed out, unable even to say goodbye. The murdered soldier, shot in the back after my betrayal. Blood and gore soaking into the dusty concrete and dripping into the ocean, so much spilled for nothing. I shook my head, typing a series of commands into the console and standing back to wait.

I hadn't intended for either of them to die, but that was a feeble excuse. The metallic voice of the generator's monitoring system confirmed the success of my commands and quickly fell silent, the generator shuddering and falling still. I watched silently as a series of warning indicators appeared on the terminal and turned to leave as the voice called in vain for the processes I'd started to be reversed.

Some time later, though I had difficulty deciding just how much, the personnel elevator opened to reveal the small B3 rest station once more. As I stepped into the room, the entire facility shook violently and the lights dimmed, only returning to their usual brightness ten seconds after the shaking ceased. That was puzzling, since nothing I'd done would have caused that and there so few of us still alive.

I headed for the transport tunnels past the stairs to floor B2 and the corpse of a hulking dinosaur. Speed no longer seemed necessary; the time for a clean escape had passed long ago, and I had no particular destination to begin with.

As I entered the long, still pristine tunnel, it became clear that something had exploded behind the large shutter, likely in the weapons storage area. The smell and clearly burnt and crumpled shutter served as a rather obvious indicator, anyway.

The heliport was only reachable by a large rail platform used to transport cargo, and couldn't even be found on any of the facility's maps. Only the highest clearance would get you anywhere near it, but somehow I doubted that would make a difference. I pulled the data discs from my pocket and looked at them, such small things containing so much information, before returning them. Both devices were still secured in their case. Everything you'd need to get the Third Energy project running was on my person, and very soon they'd be the only copies in the entire world.

Finally the platform slowed to a halt. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the cabin and approached the small level A. door that lay between me and the heliport. It hadn't been so long ago that I was a prisoner, changing hands from captor to captor and serving as little more than cargo. What Gail had said, that I was just an important piece in a larger game… it had never seemed real to me, as if I was above and beyond such petty games. But after that confrontation in the rest station, I _had_ taken control for myself. I'd lied and manipulated and killed my way free of all of them, and that was clearly the price I had to pay for autonomy. Whatever happened next, I could be satisfied with that much.

Taking a quick look back at the long corridor behind me, I swiped the card and watched the electronic door quietly open. I stepped into the enormous room revealed by the door as it closed behind me. Faint but pleasant and widespread lighting filled the room, reflecting off the dark metal floor and walls and soothing my aching eyes. A sleek, dark helicopter lay in the centre of the room, only partially visible through the low level lights. To my right was a small storage room concealed by flimsy looking shutters. Clearly the area hadn't seen much use, I thought, noting the shiny metal plating and thin layer of dust covering the floor.

I took a deep breath of the cool air and approached the helicopter. I'd always thought of this place as a bit excessive, considering the difficulty of hiding a heliport and a sloped tunnel to the surface this deep underground, but in a situation like this it certainly was useful. The door opened at a slight touch and I looked inside, seeing everything more or less as it ought to be except the massive blast doors at the far end, which likely had to be opened from the storage room. Shoving the case onto the passenger seat, I paused for a slight moment before turning around.

"Feel free to come out, agent," I called, brushing the helicopter lazily while I headed for the shutters. As expected they weren't locked, so I pulled the handle up and peered into the dark room concealed within.

"I'll give you a chance to explain yourself, if you like" a clear voice called from behind. I looked at the black ceiling quizzically. Had I heard anyone approach? I couldn't quite recall.

"I made a series of choices, and this is where they took me. You might like to hear the details, but they won't change any of it," I said to the dark wall before me. All I really wanted to do was rest.

"Was it all a lie? You were many things, but I didn't expect this."

Smiling to myself, I turned around and spread my arms out with a shrug. "Expect what, exactly?"

"Have you seen yourself? You look deranged, but… fuck, maybe that's what you actually are," she muttered, red hair flowing and a look of disgust on her face.

I took my first real look at her since our parting in the rest station. The shotgun had vanished and there was a dark stain running down her leg. Her hair was disheveled and her expression irritable, but I still found something about it eye-catching.

Something in the distance boomed, sending a slight shudder the entire facility. I saw her shoot a glance at the door, but nothing was said. I had my suspicions, but didn't particularly care.

"All I want to know is why. You realise what you've done?"

I waved vaguely at the surrounds. "I saw myself forced in a direction I'd travelled more than once, and couldn't stomach the thought of doing it ever again. After tonight, certain things needed to be done."

"And you thought murdering Gail was the way to avoid that?"

"Murdering?" I spat at her with a sharp glare. "He'd have taken me back to that place in chains regardless of what he told you. You didn't even know, did you? He had _specific orders_ to steal those weapons development plans. They know, and that means my ridiculous plan would've ended in torture and a quick death."

I absolutely relished the look of surprise in her eyes. "Gail never said anything of the sort to me."

"No, I imagine he'd have kept that hidden away. All your talk of ethics, it'd be easier that way. And why not when he can simply do it himself?" I held up my most prized data disc. "He did it all for this, and sent you after me as a minor prize."

Her eyes tracked the disc, glittering in the dim light of the heliport. The room shuddered again; she took a step closer.

"Mike told me, you know. He refused to say much, but I told him he could either tell me or I'd leave him to die. Shooting him in the leg was almost the worst thing you could've done, but all he said was that you were going to escape by yourself through a heliport concealed in these tunnels and that Gail had to still be in the B2 labs."

She paused, and reached for something in her back pocket, but hesitated. "I patched his leg up and took him back down here with me, but he said he had something to do before leaving. He acts carefree and friendly, but he has the same distant look in his eyes I see on you." I looked up, but she waved me away. "Still, he's not your concern anymore."

I was still standing in the space revealed by the shutter, almost unwilling to leave the shadows and face her in the open. But it did seem that Mike had kept his word and stayed loyal. That made what I'd done to his friend even more despicable, I knew.

She was watching carefully, and I saw I'd have to explain Gail's death. "It was hardly a murder. We fought, he very nearly won, and I had little choice other than to kill him or return a prisoner. What should his life mean to me?" I asked, shrugging in indifference.

"Yeah, I should've guessed. All for the research and the science and all that shit, right? I saw what you did to him, and there was nothing remotely refined about that."

"You should be more grateful. If I was still doing it all 'for the science' I'd have handed it all over to him and we'd have all been saved a great deal of effort. Are you _still_ so naïve?"

"So what _are_ you doing, Kirk? You take this helicopter and fly it where? What's the master plan this time?" she asked, a blatant note of mockery in her voice.

"You'll be surprised, but I haven't decided yet."

She laughed at me, a short and bitter sound echoing off the cavernous walls. I thought I'd be irritated by that, but no such emotion came.

"I can't believe I've both underestimated and overestimated you so much in one night. They're going to come looking for you, you realise that? You can't just fuck off with your discs and pretend it didn't ever happen," she said, words coming quickly and impatiently, her harsh face looking at me as if I were completely clueless.

"Underestimated, certainly. But I'm not so stupid as to overlook that little detail. When you activated the Third Energy generator did you seriously believe it would be as easy as that? You produced a great deal of energy and did nothing with it. I have to thank you for making things so easy for me."

She worked that over for a few seconds, but it wasn't really a subtle implication.

Still, I thought I'd make it even clearer. "That energy is going to be released rather violently, and this facility is going to undergo a drastic makeover. The Borginians will assume I died in the aftermath and that'll be the end of more than one problem." I pulled a heavy switch on the room's inner wall, stepped out of the cover of the shutters, and pulled my ruined coat over my shoulders.

"You'd really destroy everything you've worked on just like that?" she asked, running a gloved hand through her hair and looking back at the massive blast doors as they started to grind open.

I shrugged apathetically. "I chose this path, and that's the end result. I can always have a new generator built, but officially I'll have died tragically in the blast. A fitting end, I'd like to think."

And then Regina surprised me by running back to the helicopter and pulling open the door. Suddenly I realised she couldn't have returned to the port, but I'd left the devices in the helicopter and that small discovery would surely preempt a series of damning questions that I really couldn't answer.

She jumped down from the seat, the heavy impact of her boots on the metal floor ringing in my ears. The case was in one hand and the other was hovering lighting over the pistol on her hip.

"These were with Rick. I left them with him when he said he had to fix the hovercraft and Gail's distress beacon activated," she murmured, looking from the case to me.

Her eyes focused on me, and I saw every thought as they scanned my filthy, dusty hair, my blood-soaked, ruined clothes, the pistol at my side, and the expression on my face.

"You set me up, didn't you?" she whispered, and I had to strain to hear. "You shot him, you planted that beacon, you did it all to get me out of the port."

I didn't bother denying it.

She edged closer almost unconsciously. "You waited until I was up there, and you went to take these back. But what did you do to Rick?" She drew the pistol, still piecing together the obvious.

"I tried to contact him only twenty minutes ago, but he didn't answer. What did you do to him?" she asked, still quiet but seething with anger.

"We don't have time for this. Cynthia will explain it all, just," but I found my pathetic diversions cut out when she slammed me into the hard steel wall behind.

"You really did it, didn't you?" And I felt a hard fist slam into my stomach.

"It wasn't me-" I spat while gasping for air, but a sharp crack in my ribs burned the thought from my mind. I fell to the floor coughing, but there was no refuge. The back of my thigh, already barely sealed from the raptor's wound, erupted into agony as she slammed the toe of her heavy boot into the ruined flesh. Gail's assault had been cold and methodical, ruthlessly efficient as the man himself. But as she dragged me off the floor I had to admit her spiteful rage had inflicted far more damage.

"I've humoured you for far too long. Rick saved you, right when you were about to get your worthless brains sprayed all over a wall by Mike. He disobeyed a direct order and then risked himself for you all to do what was right." She picked up the case holding the devices and threw it at the far wall where it hit with a crack and fell feebly to the floor.

"Every one of us agreed you couldn't go back to that place, and neither could your work. I'm content to let the Third Energy die with you," she whispered in my ear as I felt the cold metal press into my stomach.

"It's my fault that he's dead, but I wasn't the one to pull the trigger," I coughed, quite ready for it to end as she suggested. It hadn't been the first time I'd thought of such a conclusion. "I took the devices at gunpoint, but had no intention of going further. There was another man on the floor at the time, you'll recall."

She dropped me to the floor and my body provided no resistance. I could see the clean metal smeared with blood from my freshly reopened leg wound, but the pain barely even registered. "He found us there, and assumed you agents had betrayed us and were taking me back. He heard Rick say Mike had been shot, and I saw something in him change."

"He shot Rick over a misunderstanding?" her quiet voice asked me. The lights flickered briefly, but neither of us was interested.

"They argued, and they both fired at each other. Rick hit the ceiling and was killed," I explained, feeling the distorted truth pass from my lips as easily as it had been the real thing. It was better for both of us that she heard it this way.

"And once he'd killed Rick, where'd he go?"

"He won't be going anywhere. You need to ask Cynthia; she saw it all. Even if you don't believe me, she has little reason to lie."

The facility shook once more, and this time I definitely heard something at the far end of the transport tunnels. I looked up at Regina with a questioning look on my battered face.

She shrugged. "I left Mike down there. Crippled or not, he said he'd be fine if I came back for him." Suddenly she pulled me to my feet. "That isn't your Third Energy explosion, right?"

I waved her away and brushed her hand off my shoulder. I could still stand unaided despite the beating. "No, that's not due for at least an hour or two, and would be considerably more violent." I sighed, and brushed my matted hair out of the way. "I… I regret I couldn't have done more to prevent what happened in the port," I muttered.

Regina stared at me as if checking for mockery, but nodded morosely and left to check the fallen case. Pulling it to her, she cracked it open and examined the devices in the light. I followed with an uneasy feeling in my chest. Fortunately the case had sustained the most damage, leaving the two devices untouched. They'd been built to withstand shock, so I hadn't expected too much to be broken.

"I didn't break them, did I?"

"No, they're sturdier than you might think."

For a moment she knelt there silently; all I could see was the crown of red hair. The tired, unsure look of her face as she'd realised I wasn't to blame for Rick's death had almost seemed unusual, but a great deal of what had happened since she'd arrived on the island must have been difficult. I recalled her saying she was a member of a five man team, and knew that the other four had all been killed in the last few hours. She was as alone as I was.

"You'll need to go back there," I murmured, looking down at her. She rose to her feet, kicked the case over to me and leaned on the wall.

"There's nothing less to go back to. My entire team is dead, and I work for people who only care about power." She sighed and looked at her pistol uneasily. "This time yesterday I was eagerly awaiting my upcoming mission to find a missing scientist on a remote island." I heard her laugh coldly and pitied her.

"How did it get so fucked up, Kirk? When did you figure it out?"

"I think I always knew. I thought I could isolate myself from the effects of what I did if I just focused on scientific discovery and ignored the rest. My first betrayal when I fled here disillusioned me, but now? I've had to destroy my accomplishments and feign my death yet again. Going on under those circumstances would be pointless." I explained it to her, but I was more interested in convincing myself. If my methods had brought me nothing but misery, were there any others that might provide more success?

"Considering what you've done tonight I'd be justified in killing you, but the idea doesn't have much appeal. Neither of us can really be blamed for this, much as I'd like to think otherwise."

"You underestimate the effect you have on the world. Small actions often have disproportionate effects," I argued. "Do you recall your first escape attempt tonight, when you crashed into me in that dusty hangar?"

She nodded, clearly not seeing where I was going.

"I was a slight movement away from locking that door and condemning you to a violent death, but the small decision to hesitate saved you, ultimately leading us here,' I said, gesturing at us and the room.

The hint of a smile appeared at the edge of her mouth before fading. "I did wonder about that even at the time. I'd probably have died. Maybe I'd have made it to the elevator with Rick. Who knows where we'd have ended up?"

For an all too brief moment we stood there in silence. I wasn't in a rush, despite the knowledge that the entire facility would either explode or be shifted to some other point in time within the next hour or so. I saw in her something I could relate to, and that was about as rare an occurrence as I'd ever experienced.

"So you really don't know where you're going after this?"

"Not in the least. I'll find somewhere out of the way to try and make sense of what happened tonight," I started, reaching for the discs in my pocket. "If giving the military the real data would truly be so catastrophic, imagine what they'd do with the ability to manipulate time."

I pressed two of the discs into her hand with a cautious glance. "This should be enough to pull off this deception, if that's still your intention."

She looked at them curiously, "So much misery for such small things. What's in them?"

"Generator designs, basic theory, some of the later Stabilizer plans,' I said, listing the things we'd stored in the B1 and B2 laboratories. "Far more advanced than the primitive designs I left them with, but ultimately only a fraction of what I discovered here."

"Why even give us this much? I'm not taking it at gunpoint."

I hesitated, took the case and returned to the helicopter. Why give those bastards even the slightest bit of help? The lights dimmed, flickered slightly, but failed to return to their original brightness. A brief but powerful shudder overtook the heliport and shook the dust from the helicopter's rotor blades. A metallic voice, this one female and the persona of the security system, declared a large explosion had been detected in the weapons storage and that decontamination procedures had been activated in that entire sector.

"I don't suppose he mentioned having any reason for wanting to be left back there," I asked, a strange idea occurring to me.

"Mike? Not really, but he might not even be alive now."

"If I had to guess I'd say he wanted to destroy any trace of his own sins, the biological weapons project," I suggested, thinking back to the heavy guilt that had clearly driven him for so long.

"Well, it sounds like he got what he wanted, one way or another' she replied, no trace of concern in her voice. I still admired that calmness. "But you didn't answer my question."

"After tonight it'll be as I'd never existed. My work, any trace of the Third Energy, anyone who knew about it… it'll all be gone. Knowledge of what we were doing here was carefully contained. I can think of perhaps four others off the island who knew," I murmured, eyes defocusing as I pictured the small handful of us left. A general, a weapons expert who'd been reassigned, a seriously ill researcher who'd been sent off the island, and the pale lieutenant who'd been sent to monitor our progress near the end, none of whom I anticipated causing any real issues.

I threw the case back into the passenger seat and closed the door, looking back at her wearily. "I don't know what's going to happen after this. It'll be insurance of a sort."

"Besides," I said, thinking of something of else. "You take them back with nothing and they'll find imprisonment or execution waiting. If I can't continue the work directly, I can still have her do it for me and perhaps save my merciful choice from being in vain."

She sighed, walked over and looked at me almost in a different light. "You really aren't going back, are you?"

I had to laugh. I could hear the bitterness in my voice. "If I went back after all this I really would be a hopelessly pathetic creature. I thought I could use the system, manipulate it to get what I wanted and leave unscathed." I gestured around at the facility walls in a grandiose fashion, a slight smile on my face.

"Evidently that hasn't worked. Now, at the very least, I have the freedom to try something else."

I pulled the final two data discs from my pocket and held them out in the light. "Every last thing we found here and the data from the experiment. Either of these could destroy a civilization in the wrong hands, I'm sure."

"Why not destroy them?" she asked, tone quiet but serious.

My hand tightened around the discs, so small and fragile. The slightest bit more pressure and they'd shatter, permanently erasing the information from mankind's memory.

I sighed, and my grip loosened. "Maybe we humans are too pathetic for this, but this is the result of a lifetime's labour. I won't let it go so easily."

I glanced at her questioningly. "And you? Can you go back after what you've learned?"

"Maybe I was deluding myself about who I was and what I did, and maybe running away really is the only sane choice. Still… I have to believe I can do something to change it. Rick thought that way and it ate away at him for years."

"You're not what I expected, agent," I said, gazing at her thoughtfully.

"And neither are you," she replied, closing the gap between us. "I can't forgive what you've done, but I can respect what you've decided to do."

Standing there, we both hesitated for a moment. Neither of us knew what the future held for us, and this final meeting in the heliport had an alluring element of certainty that I knew I'd miss in times to come. She raised her hand, brushed back a stray lock of bright red hair, and seemed to lower it to shake mine before pushing past for the door, slapping me on the back as she passed.

I heard her pause once more behind me, inhaling almost uneasily. 'However this ends, I need you to know I'll have done everything I could to make this work. For them… and maybe even for you, Kirk."

Close to turning and responding, I heard her leave and remained still. The already dim lights flickered and turned red, signaling a serious power failure. Turning around, I pulled open the door of the helicopter and took the pilot's seat. I looked back at the entrance, but she was already gone.

By the time I'd emerged from the long passage connecting the heliport to the surface the glare of the early morning sun, so very different from the soft, failing lights of the facility's lowest floor, came as a great surprise. For the first time the knowledge that the long night had come to an end was a reality, not just an abstract vision of the future. I maneuvered the helicopter out of the tunnel, the hot sunlight burning my tired eyes as I emerged into the eastern sky.

An hour later I found myself on the northern edge of the island past the forest and the facility. The sun had risen fully, a column of smoke rose from the ventilation complex to the south and the heliport in the facility and I knew it was time. I started the helicopter and pulled back, away from the island and towards the ocean.

Shortly after I saw it begin and knew I'd taken an enormous risk by staying as long as I had. My desire to see what had to come next was too strong, and I'd stayed despite the danger. A faint blue glow appeared over the facility, briefly and almost transparently, and then it happened. An enormous boom shook the helicopter and everything else in sight, almost sending it and me crashing into the ocean. By the time I'd stabilized the helicopter, the only thing left of the facility was a gaping crater quickly swallowed by the oncoming ocean. It was if it had never been there at all, the only trace being the unnaturally smooth circular cliff cut deep into the rock of the island.

It all ended exactly as I'd designed, right down to the escape through the underground heliport, but I felt a failure all the same. Once more the best option available to me had been the total destruction of my work, all the more frustrating for my having had to do the same thing twice. Sighing, I looked at the navigation map and saw a great many destinations, the only two I'd ever known barred to me potentially until my death. I picked a destination almost at random, no longer concerned by the uncertainty, and left Ibis Island for the depths of the waiting summer sky.


	14. Epilogue

It took me a surprisingly long time to come to terms with what I'd done and the changes I'd been forced to make as a result of those decisions. After my close escape from the obliteration of Ibis Island, I took the stolen helicopter and my research to a small nation to the east of the island, a country with no real ties to the Borginians and troubled, increasing tense relations with my original nation. At the time there were few alternatives, but I grew to appreciate the quiet, scarcely populated landscape soon enough.

Fortunately I'd learned from the first time my work had been shut down and taken care to ensure I'd never be so desperate again. Still, in the first month after my arrival I'd been forced to pull every string I could find to both access the resources I'd siphoned away from the Borginians during my time as their lackey and to keep that process a secret. Accommodation, falsified residency documents, a great deal of equipment, and enough bribes to smooth the process over with the local officials had all been required. The military held a great deal of influence over their government, but fortunately the local culture deeply valued privacy and tolerated my presence with few complaints.

After an uncertain first month of dingy hotel rooms and paranoia I bought myself a complex on the outskirts of an outlying city and discreetly converted it to suit my needs. A small factory used for electronics production and development that hadn't been operational for two years took up most of the available space, the rest taken by an undersized office and overgrown, debris-littered outdoor yard. I had a rather shady local group convert the office into a living space and equip a corner of the factory with enough computing power for me to continue my work, a process that required even more spending to keep the appropriate mouths shut.

I'd taken a great deal of money while on the island, but the expenses quickly piled up. Any of my official accounts were, of course, abandoned, considering my new status as a deceased man. The helicopter was quickly sold, and I took precautions to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.

The months passed slowly and I settled into something of a routine. I spent most of my time in the compound, but little of it was used productively. The case containing the devices had been carefully hidden inside of some of the old production machinery as had multiple copies of the data discs, but the research itself stagnated. I found myself spending a lot of time wandering around my new surroundings lost in thought or alone in the dusty factory lost in a bottle, but any time I stopped to concentrate on my work the former ease with which I'd made my discoveries refused to return. My adjustment to the lack of a strictly scheduled life was difficult, and freedom from obligation such an unfamiliar experience that my days began to pass by in a blur of boredom and melancholy.

As the summer heat and light began to wane, sluggishly fading into the cool, wet days and bitter nights of winter, I grew used to my new existence. By that time work had finished on my unlikely new home, resulting in a comfortable but fairly minimalistic living space in the old office and a reasonably furnished factory floor serving as a workspace and recreation area. I'd heard nothing of either Ibis Island or Third Energy in the media, checking every available source and finding not a single mention of either. The thought of contacting one of my old colleagues occurred more than once, but I never followed through with it. Eventually, after one dark night spent on the cold, dismal factory floor nursing yet another drink as I watched the sun set through a grimy window, I'd had enough of my pathetic existence, hurled the bottle at the brick wall and refused to leave again until I'd at least rechecked my analysis from the last night on Ibis Island.

Winter provided a great deal of time for research, and I finally summoned the energy to start the design work on a new Stabilizer model. The things I discovered were absolutely fascinating, and the realization that Third Energy really could be used to manipulate time, even if primitively, finally began to reignite my missing passion for scientific study.

For three months I followed the same line of thought. Why had the experiment resulted in a time shift from that particular era? Why had it affected so small a space? What about the vortexes was so significant? It provided a distraction from the lack of direction in the rest of my life, and slowly the factory floor filled with more and more equipment. A great database of information on the Third Energy, every part of the theory, every discovery, every design piece and idea began to overtake the factory floor. I had nobody to share my discoveries with and no real way of making them a reality, but I did finally have complete control over the direction of the research.

As the comparatively mild winter finally broke into a warm and windy spring I started going on walks through the city again, using the time to think and reconnect myself with the outside world. One benefit to living in a neutral country was the relative accuracy of international news, though even that came as a shock to someone used to having inside information. While sitting at a quiet, leafy outdoor restaurant in early March I read an article detailing the increasingly frigid relations between the Borginian republic and the rival they'd poached me from so long ago. Strange as it was, it almost came as a surprise that the world had continued moving during my exile.

The arrangements I'd made on that final night refused to leave my mind after that day. If Regina had survived, and that wasn't a certainty, she would have returned to her military with one or two Third Energy researchers and enough data to begin constructing the experimental generator I'd designed. There was no guarantee when it came to Third Energy, no matter what she and Cynthia might have arranged. Neither of those women were the type to abandon something once they put their minds to it, but that wouldn't be enough.

The autonomy I'd earned came with sacrifices, I knew. I had the freedom to do as I liked, but I'd never achieve the same success I could have had with funding and a research team. My accomplishments grew but there was nobody I could or would share them with. It was a difficult thing to admit, and something that still left a foul taste in my mouth, but I found myself acknowledging not only the reality that indiscriminately handing such powerful tools to the state could only end in misery, but that it was the prerogative of people like me to intervene and remove their access entirely. It was a different position from the one I'd always believed in so strongly, but my entire life stood as proof of what a tragedy it would be if the thoughtless masses ever understood the true potential of Third Energy.

My new home was a quiet, rather solemn and attractive place. Much of the architecture had been present for many hundreds of years, and there was a sense of antiquity that could be felt just by taking a walk through the historic buildings. My work progressed steadily, and I came to appreciate the advantages of being a dead man. The locals considered the strange young foreigner living in the old factory something of a recluse, but were unusually friendly despite that. Still, in spite of my growing comfort with the independent lifestyle, I found I could never fully adjust. I no longer had that subtle sense of destiny I'd so relied on, and despite my withdrawn nature the lack of stimulating conversation began to bother me.

Before long I found myself returning to the factory from the state library on a particularly hot summer day, the burning blue-white sky above a satisfying but ultimately uncomfortable presence. My shirt was already stuck to my back from perspiration and I could feel the back of my neck burning. The summers in this country were much harsher than any I'd experienced. My left hand held a stack of documents, all printouts from the latest scientific journals and my right a bag of supplies from the local markets. Doing my own shopping still felt like a novelty after all the years of having it delivered by officials.

My sources of money were still considerable even though a sizeable portion had been spent establishing myself in the city, but I knew my spending habits would have to be cut. I was recognized as 'independently wealthy' by the officials, which was their way of saying they knew I had something to hide and didn't care so long as I paid the appropriate bribes.

Approaching the front gate I noticed yet another warehouse in the district had been closed down. All the local news sources were running stories on the nation's downtrodden economic conditions, but that didn't particularly concern me. Swiping my access card, I entered the office at the back and dumped my purchases on a flimsy table already covered with papers and the remains of my dinner from the night before. The additional weight caused an empty bottle to fall off the table and shatter. Glancing back at the table, I saw even more bottles than I'd remembered lying next to a dusty pistol.

Ignoring that, I opened the thick curtains and showered my office reception turned living room and kitchen with light. The rest of the room was a mess, but I ignored that too and collapsed onto a lounge suite, picking up the first of the physics journals I'd just retrieved. Only having the _public_ access to information, news and otherwise, was frustrating, but I was very careful when it came to paying for illicit sources. The nation's relations with its rivals had become tense and there was a noticeable military presence on the streets. Giving them reason to suspect the reclusive foreigner living in an old office would be unwise.

The first journal lasted two minutes before I threw it aside, already bored with its contents. I picked up the second and couldn't summon the energy to proceed any further after seeing the front page. Most of them were junk. The midday heat was almost oppressive, and the office had a tendency to heat up like a furnace. Tired already, I left for the factory floor and the cooler air within intending to start another Stabilizer simulation. The best equipment I could get without attracting attention was still only a small fraction as powerful as the setup I'd had on Ibis Island, and with the headache I could feel coming on it would be better to start early and check the results later. Forcing myself to work had been increasingly difficult as time progressed.

Unlocking the heavy side door to the factory with a large bronze key, I stepped inside with a sigh of relief. The soothing sound of industrial fans welcomed me back, and as the door shut I took a deep breath to take in the cool air.

"Somehow I'm not surprised to see you in a place like this," a voice called from across the floor. It didn't even come as a surprise, though I still felt a burst of adrenaline hit my veins like a frightened child.

I stepped into the darkened industrial area cautiously. The factory was spacious and quite dimly lit, but I could see the outline of someone leaning against the old machinery through the gloom.

The figure detached itself and stepped forward towards me. "I'd almost started to believe you weren't coming," I replied, smiling lightly.

"Yeah? You're a lot better at hiding than I expected. Started looking half a year ago, on and off, but you were nowhere to be found."

"I took quite a few precautions. Dead man or not, there are good reasons to stay hidden."

My questionable status in this country, the international turmoil that seemed to be building, and the chance that people would be looking for me had all been on my mind for some time. Still, they were all peripheral concerns hardly worth much attention.

"If it took me that long to find you I'd say you'll be fine," she agreed, before looking around the factory closely. "So what is it with the lairs, Kirk? I mean, an old factory? But at least you picked a nice city."

"I needed space and privacy and that's what I got,' I said, immediately defensive. "How would you have done it?"

Regina walked over to my servers and poked around while I had little choice but to watch in exasperation. Still, it was a rather strange feeling seeing her again. A reminder of a life I'd taken a great deal of care to hide from.

"Honestly? You picked a good spot. I'd never even heard of this city, and the country's nice and neutral."

She turned back, still looking quite relaxed, but I didn't believe it. "So, it's been a whole year. How's the quiet life?"

I took a step closer and looked at her expression carefully. "You can relax, agent. I've continued my research, but only in the confines of this room." That said, I paused for more time to think. "Adjusting to this lifestyle took some time, I admit."

Smirking slightly, she brushed back some of that bright red hair which had grown even longer since we'd last met. "It's been good for you. You look healthier; less deranged than I'd expected."

"The same can't quite be said for you, I'm afraid," I replied calmly, eyes taking in her entire body. The longer hair suited her, and she was wearing rather casual clothes much like I was. I could see a small pistol partially concealed on her hip, but otherwise she looked more ready for a relaxed day out than a military operation. On Ibis Island I'd found my gaze lingering a little too long on her figure at times and that was even more of a problem now. Her posture and expression exposed the casual clothes and speech for the lies they were; she looked more exhausted than she'd been back on the island.

"No? I've had a rough few months. Not much time for sleep, you know? I could envy your little setup here, to be honest. Or I would, but you look like shit too."

"Healthier _and _shitty? Quite the combination."

"Don't be difficult. I'm saying you haven't shaved and you look like you've been wearing that shirt for a week."

"Hardly a week," I replied, but it was a feeble response. Truthfully I couldn't quite recall how long it'd been and found the subject irritating.

"I trust you're satisfied? I've done no more than I said I would back in that heliport,' I asked, glancing at the pistol. This had the air of a friendly visit but we weren't friends and I knew why she had to have tracked me down.

"For once I feel like I can be honest, actually. I _am_ satisfied. If you'd done things differently, I'd have shot you and burnt this place to the ground. But you kept your end of the deal, so we're fine."

I had to smile at that. "Of course you would. Would you like a tour? It's too hot to stand around in here, and I've been rather busy." It felt almost pathetic, but I wanted to keep her talking, to have someone who knew who I was and what I did to talk to. The degree to which isolation had clearly affected me came as a surprise even at the time.

So I showed her around the factory, and then the now clean yard, and then my incredibly messy living room in the old office while she asked questions about how I'd spent the last year. We spoke for a while as the day grew even hotter, and I was so enthralled by the chance to be myself again that I was actually quite pleasant company for a time.

"So," I said as we sat in the office, her eyes gazing over the mess with clear amusement, "I've been stuck here for a whole year. Adjusting to a lack of real news wasn't easy, and I keep feeling like I've missed an entire year."

She raised an eyebrow. "You mean international news? Lots of tension all over the place. You can even see it here, like all those soldiers I passed on my way into the city." she said, waving out the window at the street.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that. Nothing you've got to hide could be any more dangerous than what I'm storing in that factory," I said, looking across the table and making firm eye contact with her.

"When you put it that way, why not?" she replied, shrugging indifferently. I could see dark circles under her eyes. "Two months after Ibis Island the Borginians released the results of their investigation, blaming our country for sabotaging their energy research project and destroying one of their military facilities."

Now _that_ was surprising news, although in reality it wasn't an unusual move. "Do they have proof?"

"They say they do. Doesn't really matter, since that's not the only conflict we've had. Nobody admits it publicly, but everyone's worried."

"That explains the soldiers I keep running into in the city. They're obviously preparing for something, but the official explanations are so laughably bad that they're not worth repeating."

That got her attention. "That's a bold move from them. Nobody knows if this'll turn into anything, but I've never seen things this tense. Certainly makes life harder," she muttered, sighing and looking at the old pistol on the table between us. "You kept that thing?"

I hesitated. The pistol had been there a long time. "I live alone in an industrial district. Sometimes I think… but it's of no importance," I replied, spinning the gun in a circle. The look she shot me was almost understanding.

She leaned in towards me. "My advice? Put it somewhere out of sight."

I sipped at my iced water. "So, you still in the same job?"

"No, after Ibis Island things changed a little."

And there we were, at the heart of the conversation. "What happened when you returned?"

"After I left you in that heliport I found Mike half dead in that transport passage, burned badly and bleeding from the leg you shot. The idiot blew up the entire weapons storage area and took out the generator in the process. We barely even made it off the island."

"A bit pointless, really, considering I'd set the generator to overload by then."

"Yeah, but he said it felt good. What more can you ask for?"

She shrugged again. "Anyway, when we got back I spent hours in mission reports. Being the only one left and having two severely injured researchers in the back of a hovercraft made them curious."

"After I told them who the prisoners were they shoved them in the best medical facility we had and pulled me back in for more reports, that time with a colonel. I told them you were dead and that the facility had been destroyed and handed over those discs."

"How generous," I muttered, reaching over and drawing the curtains.

"Not really. They both took the better part of a month to heal, and that month was spent in meetings for me. They wanted me to tell them everything, but I played my part pretty well."

"So what did they do with my data?"

"After thoroughly questioning both your former researchers, though _not_ with torture, they made me a proposition."

Not the first of those you've gotten, I'm sure, I thought before chastising myself. "What sort of a proposition?"

"They proposed building a prototype generator and starting a Third Energy research division." She drained her glass and filled it with whiskey.

I slammed mine on the table. "So after all this the scum want my work after all."

"Don't get too excited. The colonel put Cynthia in charge of research after I said she was your one of your main researchers; made both of them full citizens under some restrictions. They've got two other scientists under them, just studying theory for now."

I'd expected something along those lines when I'd made these plans, but it was still a shock. So the Third Energy research and experiments would continue after all. But it was as I'd known all along; the development of my work was inevitable even if I was hidden away in a border city.

"And you? Back to sneaking into places where you're not wanted?"

"Like here?" she asked, looking smugly at me. "No, they reassigned me. It's hard to be part of a raid team when you're the only one in the team. I'm the official military overseer for their new Third Energy project."

I stared at her in complete surprise. "They put _you_ in charge of the Third Energy project?"

"I thought you'd like that. I'm not in charge of the research, but I manage the team and their resources and relations with the officers. Quite the promotion, I thought." Her dull tone of voice was hardly as cheerful as that kind of a promotion might call for, but I let that observation go without a comment.

She put down her empty glass and suddenly looked serious. "Look, I know it can't be easy hearing that they're going to keep working on it without you."

"When I said Third Energy research was inevitably going to happen, I always pictured myself leading the way," I murmured, looking around. "I still am, in a sense, but nothing I do here can even leave this building."

"Still," I said, "if they didn't like how I did things, imagine how they'll enjoy the three of you and your idiosyncrasies."

She stood up, stretching and pulling her hair back. I looked at the window, forgetting I'd drawn the curtains. My gaze slowly drew back to her. "I wouldn't worry too much. They only started three months ago, and I've spent most of my time being sent from place to place with never a moment's rest. "

Her jacket was dumped on my lounge suite, adding to the miserable pile of debris already there. "Besides, Cynthia does most of the explaining. So far she seems to know what she's doing."

I watched her as she sat back down. "This could end badly, you know."

"Why do you think I spent six months looking for you, Kirk? So far all we're expected to do is work on the energy generation, but you're the only one who really understands the consequences of this stuff." she said, almost as if I were a fool for not understanding earlier.

We spent most of the afternoon drinking and sharing the events of the past year, eventually straying onto topics as varied as the terribly hot climate and local politics. It was a strange meeting, particularly because we were both clearly uneasy around each other, but eventually I realised she was just as desperate for a moment free of lies as I was. Even when surrounded by people it was very easy to be isolated and someone in her new position would learn that very quickly, I knew from experience.

As the day finally began to cool I found myself sitting in the same leafy outdoor restaurant, this time with her of all people. As we ate dinner I expected her to leave quite quickly, but again I could see the desperate desire for a break from whatever life she'd been living. Regina soon proved herself to be both entertaining and intelligent, and despite my reservations I noticed I'd been in her company the entire day without growing irritable.

Some time later, as the sun started to set and the streets grew dark, we stopped at the end of a deserted road.

"Thanks for the tour. This place is much nicer than what I'm used to seeing," she said, staring at a small park on the other side of the street.

"You'll adjust soon enough."

She turned and stared at me. "Adjust to what?"

"The things you find yourself having to do. Leadership is different, and never easy."

"I saw your leadership skills. You're saying I'll end up like that?"

I grinned at that, folding my arms and leaning on the brick wall behind. "You'll find yourself in a position where every choice is wrong and you're completely alone in the world. The people around you who should be the most understanding will all turn against you and the outside world will despise you. It has its advantages, I admit, but you'll never enjoy it."

"Remind me never to come to you for motivation." She paused for thought, hands in her jacket pockets. "Still, I'll keep that in mind. Doing this right isn't going to be easy."

After that, not much more was said. Looking at her still filled me with a slight twinge of discomfort, though the reason for that eluded me. I knew she'd gone to some trouble not to antagonize me. Despite my nature, doing the same had come easily enough after so long alone.

As we approached the industrial area I stopped her, hesitantly reached into the pocket of my freshly changed jeans and pressed a small envelope into her hand.

"What's this? A plane ticket so I get out of your way?" she asked, but I could see the humour hadn't reached her eyes.

"A summary of some of my recent discoveries, actually. You know who to give it to."

Her eyes narrowed, obviously concerned with something. "Nothing dangerous, is it? Sometimes I think they're watching the research team."

I waved her concerns away. "Just some modifications to the generator technology. The interesting work stays with me."

She pocketed the envelope and nodded appreciatively. "Well, this went better than I thought it might. I've got to go, stayed too long as it is, but expect to see me again in a few months. Try not to get into trouble before then, alright? And don't spend all your time alone in that place." That said, she threw a peculiarly knowing look at me and turned around, quickly heading for the outskirts of the city as the last traces of sunlight faded from the streets. Watching her turn the corner at the end of the street, red hair flowing in the wind, I wasn't quite sure what to think.

I found myself sitting outside in the old yard six hours later nursing yet another drink and staring at the sky. The warmth of the breeze and the smell of the summer air felt appropriate somehow, though the world seemed to lose its luster after sunset. What Regina planned to do was incredibly dangerous, but someone with an espionage background would have to understand that. I almost had to laugh, considering my own behind the scenes role in her scheme. Not once had she even considered telling her superiors the truth, I knew; after all the sacrifices to conceal the true potential of Third Energy, she'd follow this path to the bitter end.

My glass fell to the floor and cracked, but I barely noticed. My gaze was focused on the sky above, the quiet sounds of the city barely audible in the distance. I hadn't ever regretted my decisions on Ibis Island, but the sacrifices I'd made had been difficult to accept. That intriguing woman was going to need my help more than she knew. Comfortable as my new lifestyle had been, I could hardly allow the development of Third Energy at someone else's hands. That was the trouble, really, when you began complicating things with ethics and value judgments. Everything became so messy, and soon enough you found yourself desperately trying to show the world the fascinating discoveries you've made while concealing their true nature because they couldn't possibly begin to handle the consequences of that knowledge.

And yet I'd found a note stuffed in Regina's empty glass after returning that night. She was asking me to find a way to ensure that the next inevitable Third Energy experiment could safely be attempted without any of the catastrophes that plagued my early work. I had to wonder why she didn't just ask in person.

After reading that I'd taken the rest of the whiskey that she'd been drinking outside to get some perspective. Regina had little reason to do anything for me. The note, short and hastily scrawled in a messy hand, served as something of a challenge, as if it were hinting that I wasn't capable of solving the problem. I'd killed her squad leader and caused her a considerable amount of misery, but to think she hadn't realised what she'd just done for me would be ridiculous. A third chance to complete my life's work, that's what I'd been given. It would very likely be my last. I longed to understand her reasons.

As the night sky finally began to give way to the first hints of sunrise I returned to my makeshift laboratory with a renewed sense of purpose. In all my time researching the Third Energy something vital had been missing, something capable of fully solving the unending problem of instability that had so plagued my work from the beginning. That crucial piece had eluded me for far too long. It was time to change that.

That day I crushed the disc containing the Borginian weapon plans under my boot without any trace of regret. Those designs were the embodiment of my failure, a veritable shrine to my inability to complete the Third Energy theory. Who needed something like that casting doubts over them? I'd had nothing but doubts for years, and despite the successful transition to independent life, the desire to finish my work, to prove that it _could_ be finished, was as strong as it'd ever been.

Whatever the outcome, she'd given me a reason to endure another day. By the time Regina returned I was determined to have an answer, one that would justify both my own importance in the world and the need for my life to continue. It might even reward the obvious trust she'd placed in me. Trust founded on an uneasy shared goal, a great many secrets, and one day of shared company. The resolution to continue, especially after the destruction of the plans from Ibis Island, filled my mind with a burning energy, both the desire to continue and the willpower needed to do so. There was some contentment to be found in that, at the very least.


End file.
